


Tearing Apart

by Evina1234



Series: Unintentional [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Beating, Blood and Gore, Crimes & Criminals, Crying, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Drug-Induced Sex, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Guns, Harry-centric, Hidden plot, Intense, Investigations, Kidnapping, Larry Centric, M/M, Mentally Instable Character, Mentions of Suicide, Mind Rape, Minor Character Death, Murder, Not main character, Past Relationship(s), Physical Abuse, Psychological Torture, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Assault, Torture, Violence, Whipping, larry au, mention of overdose, underworld mafia, violance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 93,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evina1234/pseuds/Evina1234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kidnapped under the noses of high security plans Harry, Louis and Zayn try to hold on to their sanity in arms of a disturbed mind with a grudge on one of them. Will all three of them come out of the unexpected pit they fell in to or will they tear apart...</p><p>This is the Second part of 'As We Come Apart'. So if you reach this part first I recommend you to read the previous one first because this would not make much sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wake up to closure

**Author's Note:**

> A/N : This Story is a complete One Direction/ Larry Stylinson AU. The story will get intense and dark from here going through areas of a good amount of violence, abuse, sexual situations and angst. If you are not comfortable with it or if you are underage, please be kind enough to your self to not to continue reading...
> 
> Heed the warnings!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final show ends in a high note. With dying fireworks and spent energy, fans lines out of the One Direction bubble, not knowing anything about the fallen disaster. Chaos after the unexpected turning of events as Liam and Niall try to find their feet in a prudish hospital.

                                                                                                     

                                          

                                                                   

 

 

 

 

The show had ended.

 

The screams had died down as well as the vivacious, stunning colours of fireworks which had marked the skies for several pretty minutes.

The stage lights are dimmed and the house lights are up, hinting the crowds that it is indeed the end of their time inside the One Direction bubble. Empty soda cans, cups and handmade banners lay discarded between the emptying seat rows and dirty stadium floors. Countless heads, drunk on spent energy and the heaviness of the closure to a one glorified tour, are now directing their dopy steps towards the exit doors.

The life, the stadium had breathed from the morning is slowly fading down, as any other show closing... surrounded with a tug of a feeling usually every end is met with. 

At least it seemed so in the front yard and the emptied stage, which now only had the memories of the boys' footsteps and echoes of singing.

 

The backstage though ... is a different story.

 

At backstage, - it is chaos, panic and a disaster. Because out of nowhere, 3/5 of One direction are _missing..._

 

 

 

In a conference room filled with expectant journalists in central London, Modest representatives mumbled to one another impatiently checking their watches repeatedly. The men and women of media business looked expectant, some even smug. When a sandal hits in the face of a world dominated fandom, there is nothing catchier than that. 

It is a feast of everything juicy and mouth watering. The media conference is an added bonus.

Sure... they had been warned of the questions to be asked or the topics to be brought forward but it would be a delicious to capture the boys' reactions on a day like this. Every flinch, slight slip, gesture will be recorded and put on to sale, to be prodded and picked at.

The Modest wanted it to just be over with ... the media men and women knew.

But the front table with five chairs and five mikes in front of them were empty as a desert.

One Direction faces will be arriving after closing their final show in Europe, they knew.

But the boys were late...

 

After a delay of what seemed like forever, the ones in the front rows noticed the backstage run slightly impatient... or uneasy. A click of Modest! coordinators were whispering in a click with unheard words and gestures. Then, Stacy Wilkins, the primly dressed assistant PR for the band among them stepped on to the stage. Her face held no emotion but she rubbed at the file in her hand as if it contained some ill-agreement she had signed in to.

She stepped to the podium with a tap to the mike to make sure it is on. It emitted a dull sound getting her attention from the seated. She cleared her voice and pursed her bright red applied lips looking at the crowd.

"Good evening everyone.... umm..., I know we had been kept you waiting for some time and we know how you all have been awaiting for this conference,"

... Looking at the crowd she pursued her lips again with a quick glance at some Modest employees in the crowd who were looking at her with the same annoyed expression as the rest of the journalists. Slight murmurs started with annoyed hissings.Stacy cleared her throat lightly. She was nervous.

"Unfortunately some ill incidents had fallen to place-"

the crowd started boos as most started talking with ill gestures and motions as she continued,

"- Our team from the stadium boys were performing informed us few minutes ago that the boys have been in an accident-"

The protesting voices started to die down in the hall as she went on.

"- they have been transferred for immediate medical attention under good care of a specialist team,"

The crowd had now fallen to a sudden complete silence with even a pin dropping would be heard.

"We are sorry for the inconvenience caused with this ill news but since the inevitable situation we would have to cancel this conference until further notice...Thank you"

The silence is off the next second with many a voices and with questions and inquiries with worry and shock that had been fallen down on them...

 

"What is the nature of the accident?"

 

 "When had this happened?"

 

"Is anybody at fault?"

 

"What is the condition of the boys?"

 

"Are any of them seriously injured?"

 

"Where have they been admitted?"

 

Astonished crowd went in to shouts and concerned remarks... as Stacy tried to stand her ground with the grilling trying to gain some control over the panicked group of people.

 

"The crash had happened in the backyard of the Stadium as they were taking off to join us here. We are not yet updated with the condition of the boys or seriousness of their injuries. We would soon call a meeting with media when we have further information. Until then we hope you will be patient and understanding about the gravity of the situation.

Thank you."

 

Stacy steps back with many voices rising with hands shot up.

The crowd was panicking and fighting for every scrap of information but Stacy exits the hall with haste, her eyes cast down as few other Modest! heads who had been standing beside her follows her behind.

 

 

.............................................................................................................

 

 

 

In a private hospital famous for its services and treatments for rich, powerful and famous A-listers, its usual overdosed calmness and prim composure had turned to a chaos...

Semi-lobby area of a luxurious ward in a upper floor was filled with people.

Men and women in suits and uniforms were running around whispering, talking, questioning, and taking notes and what not....

Everybody in a haste, everybody busy, everybody hiding their panic under the masks of seriousness, everybody trying to call...cancel, reason out, cover up or explain...

Everybody trying to damage control. It was true chaos...

 

Liam has always hated hospital lobbies.

The air conditioning there was usually the highest. He had had his first experiences in a hospital lobbies when he was quite young. He and his family had been regular visitors in their town hospital due to his none functioning kidney problem and he had been used to sitting there hours and hours, waiting for his reports or to be examined or to meet doctors...

But it was a vague memory for him now, because it had been a long time ago and he had been so young when it had happened.

But he had always disliked the too prudish plastered serenity in hospital lobbies…

However, all the recent memories he had in hospitals were always coupled with the boys and their charity works. Liam had always felt strong emotions whenever they were in there... empathy, sadness, happiness kindness, usefulness and satisfaction... because they were able to bring a smile to faces of distressed people even for a while or aid those who were in need even at least for a tiny bit.

But never ever he had felt the panic and fear he was feeling now in past couple of years when he was in a hospital.

Liam and Niall sat on a couch in the corner and watched the faces around them without really seeing them.

It was all a haze to both of them.

Everything that had happened from yesterday night was haunting them like a shadow in the backs of their minds seeming to feel like over dramatized dreams they had while in sleep. The media blow up, Harry breaking down, security disco, Louis being on the edge, the contract they did not know about, the show... Harry's phone call with Paige, tension in the stage... it had all run too fast.

And then suddenly out of nowhere they had been punched in the gut by a sight of Louis and Zayn being dragged in to an unknown vehicle in front of them. All three of them, Zayn Harry and Louis had instantly fallen out of the face of the earth without so much as a hint.

It had all been fine first in the show. But then Louis had heated things up, trying to talk to already moody Harry on stage.

They had no idea what had been said, only that Harry had gotten more irritated with whatever was exchanged between them. Liam had been worried so he had signed Zayn to follow Louis. Liam saw Zayn trying to get them to act subtle at least until the show. But Louis being Louis… had followed Harry to his exit messing the original exit plan. Zayn had followed them for whatever the reason.

And that was it... the last they had seen of three of them... standing there on the stage about to go down from the same exit, faces with three different expressions which two of them did not have enough time to read before they jumped...

 

Niall and Liam had met on the way to their transport as they were supposed to, followed by their personal guards.

Zayn, Harry and Louis were nowhere to be seen. But they were not too bothered. They might already be in the van or they might be behind. They were all supposed go in the same transport...

so no fuss.

 

Liam and Niall had just walked mouthing Louis' impeccable timing to set things up with Harry... they were heading to a media disco for god sake with Harry's whole leaked footage drama. Could there be a better time to find a fight?

They reached the transport through exit two, both Zayn's and Louis' bodyguards were already there but minus the boys.

"Where's the other three?"  Trevor had asked from the front seat as Liam had only opened his mouth to say that they must be still in the behind, since Louis and Zayn followed Harry, but he never said it. Sudden movements and odd muffled sounds coming from the side of a vehicle parked several blocks in front of him caught his attention as well as everyone around him...

It was all too dark to see in a one glance.

Their driver had switched the headlights on. It was all a haze all of a sudden but Liam could make out Jimmy fighting to push something in to SUV. It was a struggle. Then a glimpse of a denim jacket in a struggling motion made Liam sway in front of his eyes...wasn't that Louis'...what? Harry? Next moment Liam's all senses frozen as he saw Zayn on the ground, his face in pain. Looking towards them Zayn opened his mouth in a panic but in the next blink Jimmy grabbed Zayns' face, and he was pushed in to the vehicle.

"Freeze!!!!!!!! Security!!"

Trevor had shouted jumping down from their SUV,  screamed out of his lungs but they had been too late...

 The door of the front SUV closed with a bang and the vehicle had taken off in a jet speed...

It had been too late...

Neither the gate security nor the road block in front of the stadium had been able to stop the raging vehicle...

 

Security went haywire... shouts, orders... tire screeches, speeding vehicles, cursing! running... But in the end anything had not mattered... not the several vehicles drove trying to follow the SUV in a similar jet speed nor the packs of security ran up and down searching ... searching and searching. Searching even with search dogs, for anyone laying around with threads of curly locks... or a feathery haired, blue eyes... just in case. It is only Zayn they had seen clearly...

But nothing mattered... Not at all. Not even a bit...

Zayn, Louis and Harry had disappeared from the face of the ground with no traces.

 

Balling his hand with the other, Liam blew air to his fists to feeling cold but the warmth only lasted for few seconds after.

Liam turns his head and looks over his shoulder at Niall who sat in the couch with curled limbs. His strained face looks tired hair tousled and eyes red. They had not exactly talked to each other for a long time now. Niall looks at him, sensing Liam's eyes on him. And they just stare at each other, lost for words. Eyes saying everything they thought in their heads... because they both were feeling almost the same thing.

 

  

After what seemed like hours of waiting in a craze heightened lobby with people who running around, the elevator doors open. Both Liam's and Niall's attention immediately goes to the tree people stepping in. Sitting there for a long time without a scrap of news, they practically jump to their feet seeing Paul, their head in security, Trevor and Andy who usually assisted him all the time were with them.

Paul looked exhausted, pressured and serious.

The room had now gone silent, with the head of security entering the room. Everybody looked expectantly at him.

But Paul only looks at Liam and Niall, sighing them to follow him.

 

Paul leads two of them to a private room followed by Andy and Trevor and closes the door behind them. He gestures them to sit on the crisp white bed which they does without so much of a word. Paul drags a chair to the front of them and sits leaning towards the two boys who looks at him patiently but expectantly...

Paul always had answers, ways to make things right...  to put everything in motion when things went wrong. They felt hopeful, looking at the man's face.

 

"We found the vehicle."  Paul says making them both sit straight... but Paul's face was not anywhere near relief, if more he looked worried and grim. 

"It was dumped in the midway to nowhere...  they've probably switched it with another."

Liam and Niall just watches the stressed lines on Paul's face.

"No contacts had been made yet, but the we are expecting whoever behind this to contact the team or the management or families. Since they have taken three, police are suspecting something more than a personal matter." Paul sighs rubbing at his face, "This has been obviously planned."

 

"What do you mean?" Liam feels his own voice being croaky and heavy, "This .. this is just out of nowhere, Paul. What is going on? Is the security involved? Jimmy he was.. he..? I saw him..."

He tries to collect words, but his thoughts were a mess.

"We are doing background checks with everyone...including the management employees. Jimmy is the lead suspect but I doubt that he is the main head behind this. He might as well just be a foot soldier. This is too planned to be a simple ransom threat... we will only know once they contact us... The police and the management are trying their best, believe me." He stresses sincerely.

His words come hurriedly though. They both notice. Paul looks at them carefully, at both of them.

"I came to talk to you two about something else as well" he places his hand on Niall's thigh and his stare is now more serious and grimmer. "We can't let the public know about this."

Liam and Niall just stare at their trusted friend.

"It's been too much chaos and we don't know where this is going to turn or how it will affect them and the band itself, so we are going to have to keep this down until we get to the middle of this-"

"What about the press meeting... They... they already know, don't they? We were supposed to be there half an hour ago..? Surely they have noticed something by now" Liam says looking at both Andy and Trevor who stood behind Paul.

 "They have been informed that you have been in an accident...sort of a - a car crash - behind the stadium" Paul says carefully.

They both stare at Paul silently, trying to let the things sink in.

"It's been arranged... pictures will be uploaded and sent to the media by tomorrow morning" Paul says with a locked stare at the two who just stares right back at him.

"Wha...-" Liam started but Niall got better of him.

"Is that why we are stuck in this hospital... everyone to pretend that we are being plastered up here??"

Paul looks calm outward but he clearly tenses. Liam feels Paul was trying to smooth it up for them.

"Until we get in to the bottom of this, because we don't know who did this or what their intentions are and in what extent" Paul says almost assuring.

Liam and Niall keeps staring at the man without a word. They didn't know what to think, or say. It is all out of the blue and neither of them had a clue what is happening. This was the twenty first century... things like these only happened in movies and TV shows... right?

 

"Pictures?" Liam asks then, upload what pictures?

"We are arranging some sets and props... edits will aid in"

"What about our families? You are going to cover it up from them too?" Liam asked not sure he will agree to lying to the families. Zayn's, Louis' and Harry's families deserved to know...

"They will be called to a meeting tomorrow and they will be informed... flights have been booked already." Paul says in a matter of fact tone. There is a rush in his words as he looked at them intensely. "There is something management want you two to do." he says without blinking. "They need help with media and relations... we need you two to get on with this... help us with statements."

"You mean they want us to fake tweet saying that we were in a car crash?" Niall blurts his blue eyes almost welling up.

Liam pats his back from behind trying to sooth him. Leaning forward, Paul grips on Niall’s thigh slightly,

"This is a difficult thing we are going through, Niall. But we need to cover up for them. They need your help, all three of them."

"How is lying ever going to help them? Why aren't police sending search parties and following with the traces or whatever the police do??" Niall's voice was cracking and face was reddening.

Liam knew exactly how Niall is feeling because he is feeling the same hollow uncertain anxiety. They were both beyond just frightened. But for Liam, the thoughts and words seem all tied up... along with his fears.

Paul sighs and looks back at Andy and Trevor at the back. When Paul looks up at Liam and Niall again there is a hardened graveness in his face.

"They are doing it, Niall. But for now it only led to the dumped SUV in a swamp with a note and some stuff. Nothing beyond that... and they have been trying for hours now." Paul rubs his chin as the two boys stare at him unblinking, "The note...It said they'll contact us... and not to worry with the police"

"Stuff? What about the stuff? You said stuff?" Liam askes his head trying to listen to every bit of detail that there is.

 Paul straightens in his chair, "Harry's boots and his cross"

"What?"

"Boots and the cross Harry's been wearing" Paul said grimly.

Harry's signature brown boots and his famous cross necklace...Harry has not removed that cross from his neck since he was eighteen or something. They both knew that. He held on to it like it is some good old friend... not that Harry was particularly religious but it’s something he treasured. But why?... why would anyone do that... leave it behind?

"It might be to sigh that they've got him..." Paul said looking at them directly.

His stare is thoughtful and serious, "I'm not supposed to talk about this with you guys, but I think you deserve to know. This is a planned kidnap. And whoever did this only probably planned to take Harry out."

Liam and Niall could just stare as Paul continued to say, "Louis and Zayn were just there by mistake... because they followed Harry from the stage. Might have easily been either of you." Niall and Liam doesn't move nor breathe. They could not comprehend the look in Paul's face. It was a mixture of worry, strain and grimness altogether.

"They seem to just follow a protocol or a routine, you know, to just flash us only with some stuff of Harry, when they have Zayn and Louis with them. So this seems like a contract handled by someone who had been hired... and they made decisions to take the other two because they were there. Because they had to."

Liam leans forward resting his face on his palms. Not many of it made sense at all. Contract? Protocol? What's going on..?

"But - but we are just a bloody singing group singing simple songs to some- '

"You are a record label, Niall... a label worth millions, worldwide... and Modest had been running with some tough decisions lately with very table turning contracts. One Direction had been the main game for almost three years now."

Liam shakes his head, "I don't understand how you can justify Zayn, Tommo and Haz going missing with any of that, Paul. We are just a singing band. And now they want to cover up this whole thing but how is it possible? What about the show in Australia... we have couple of award shows and what about our friends... their friends? Perri and El must be freaking out. They’ll want to know where they are... right?"

"Perri and Ele are on the way here now... friends and other people would have to wait out of this. We will only take in the family to stay in. I know it's tough for you guys but the management is expecting you to help us until they solve this. Don’t worry about shows or other stuff… they are being handled by Stacy, she will inform you of any agendas. Right now you guys take a break from all of this."

Paul reaches his pocket and pulls out three iphones and Andy hands him Zayn’s old Nokia model.

"I want you guys to keep these. Answer the necessary... you will be given a list and the information on all the conditions... there's only yours and Louis and Zayn's phones. Ben says Harry's phone is broken...but I have to get a confirmatio-"

"He smashed it . On a wall... I -err was with him." Liam says taking the phones with a slightly shaking hand.

Paul purses his lips with a slight nod and a sigh. "Ok- alright."

 

The phones feels heavier and bulkier in Liam's hands. What are they going to say if Louis' or Zayn's phones rings?...And what of Harry's flock of friends? Nick, Jeff, Darren, Cara James... there were so many that will surely try and come down to the hospital to see their curly, dorky friend...are they going to lie straight in to their faces? For how long?

 

"I'm sorry to put you through with this, guys."  Paul says genuinely with a cloud of concern in his eyes. "I wish I could stay for longer but I have to go... Trevor and Andy will stick with you. They are going to get you settled down here for couple of days."

"Here?" Liam asks with a shock more than irritation.

"Yes, it’s the better option for now"

"That's ridicules, Paul. We'll go crazy inside these walls." Niall starts protesting.

"It's just for a couple of days, Niall. You will have to stay here until sometime. Sorry about this but this place is as good as any hotel in the level of security which is the priority now... this is similar to any good place, of course minus the pool and the pub… but it's safer here and there will be less hassle from the media. It's only until the hype dies down."

Paul says getting up. "And it will be more convincing and easier for you to handle media from here than anywhere else."

 

He spares a gaze at the two boys who look knackered. He knows that this is a lot to ask of them, especially to face the media and to cover up. But it has been the only way to convince the media and public. And it is crucial that things does not go out of hand so they could focus on getting in to the middle of this with less shame & time. He looks back at the two who had not moved from their seated spots.

 

"Is there anything else I can get for you guys?"

Liam just shakes his head and Niall just stares. They both look tired and pressured. With a glance at Andy and Trevor who look back at him with a reassurance, Paul leaves the room. The two boys will be irritated and bitter about their stay in the over comforting hospital stay but Paul knew they will be safe there. Especially with Trevor and Andy, they were in good hands… he just knew.

These boys are like sons to him. They practically grew to be men with him, under his care... under his watch and guidance. He had been there with them for the last four years of their lives, in their each turn, each bump and each fall as well as all their peaks. It was a bond that became more than a business relationship or a contract. He loved them all as if they were his own family. As he walked back to the elevator with heavy feet he could only hope and pray that the other three were at least out of harm and well enough to hold on until they find a way to get them back.

Paul hit the button for ground floor checking his watch, a DKNY with black leather strap and a weird leopard skin buckle attached to it... given to him by Harry last Christmas, saying he it resembled Paul to him in a funny way... the weird kid. Harry had not only given it to him but also had made sure he wore it…Paul sighs to the memory as well as the time indicated on the watch.

It was almost 5.00 in the morning...more than six hours since the boys had gone missing... Modest and police should better work out something very soon. He thought running his tensed fingers through his hair.

 

 

Miles away to the hospital, in a cold, dim lit room, Harry slowly began to wake up, his eyes bleak and painful as he tried to open them ... his mind fussy with confusion.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Arms tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up in an unknown situation alone and feeling ill, while Louis finds him with an injured Zayn and fear for a missing Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the bit of slow update. And this chapter is a bit short as well.

 

 

                              

 

 

 

 

 

It is cold... very cold,

 

he shivers...

 

Only half awake, his eyes feels heavy and swollen even before he tries to open them.

 

Lips burning with a foul taste and mouth painfully dry, the thirst is practically killing him.

His body felt sour and stiff. His head kept pounding and he was nauseous. Slowly but painfully, Harry urged his eyes to open without much success... Did he drink last night? Is he hung over?

He could not recall drinking. His memory seemed all jumbled, with just bits and pieces.

The show..., _they were doing a show last night_... he remembers. Camera flashes...people shouting, cameras, paps... meeting at Modest!... photos... his photos with...Paige, crowds...,..paparazzi, Louis... blinding lights... management,.. angry, angry faces... " _I want you back._.." Louis had said...

He pushes his eyes open with a gasp that doesn't really come out.

The room around him is dim and the white sheet he is laying on top of, felt so cold. He grits his teeth to control the shivering. He tries to get up but his limbs are too uncoordinated. The walls in front of him started to sway...

He rests his head on the white sheet again, face down. _Where is this?_

He tries to recall, feeling so... so tired. The media conference, they finished the show... and- and they were walking. Louis... Louis was behind him, and Zayn or was it Liam?... no Zayn. Zayn has bronze eyes not brown like Liam's. He had looked in to a pair of bronze eyes in the corridor behind Louis' sapphire blues... also there were someone else... Someone stared back at him in a stoning gaze... Then like a splash it all came to him. Louis mouthing him off - his almost urge to punch him and seeing Jimmy stare at him... with a gun, someone grabbing him from behind -, Louis' and Zayn's shocked and terrified faces... No. No. No. No... Harry covered his mouth feeling nauseous. He breathes hard, trying to take in air as much as he could.

Where are they? Where is he? A growing headache seem to get worse as he tries to think... so he stills.

After laying still for what seemed like hours to him, Harry pushes his body up, still shivering. His body does not support him much. So instead standing, he pushes himself down... down from the white sheet... bed which seemed to have a steel frame. His feet are bare, he notices... his boots were gone. When did he remove them?

He whimpers as his naked feet touch the ice cold cement floor. But he drags his body down to a sitting position, leaning back to the edge of small white bed. He pushes back his head resting it on the mattress. His throat aches and his head pounds. He needed water...

Leveling his head again Harry tries to look around and take in his surroundings.

Surrounding all dim, the only thing he could make out clearly is a closed door. _Maybe if he could get it open?_ He thinks with a heavy drowsiness that is trying to knock him off.

His nausea is building up... no way he was going to vomit. But his throat convulses, once.

Without standing, Harry starts dragging himself towards the door on hands and knees, because he was sure his limbs will not hold him up if he stood. He let himself sit at the door. Pressing his paining head in to the cool solid, he pounds at the hard wood dully.

" _Hello..."_

his voice sounds hoarse and dry. His vision starts to spin again and he closes his eyes, trying to concentrate.

"Is an-yone the-re?... Hello"

His stomach starts turning and his head is hurting. He stops pounding and sits with his back to the wall.

 "J-ust need some water..." he slurs. "Hell..oo." his eyes were getting heavier and the floor beneath him starts shaking.

He knocks again "ss..o.me one there??...some water."

He is only greeted with silence and sound of his own heartbeat... "think I'm gonna throw up..." he whispers to himself tiresomely. Why is he talking to himself?

He runs his shaking hand through his hair feeling his breaths...

It is like he is running out of breath. His throat itches in a funny way. His stomach lurched unhappily and he presses the back of his head to the wall feeling dangerously close to vomiting...

He didn't want to.

So he tries to calm himself ignoring his room spinning around. He wanted to keep it down but knew it is pointless. Next moment he doubles down heaving, trying to hold himself up with his hand, not noticing the door knob starting to turn with a creek.

He does not know how much he heaved or how long but in the end he feels his vision blurring, almost passing out.

But then he is being dragged up by his arms, shoulders... his feet were dragging behind him on the cold floor not supporting him.

 

 _"_ _Give 'im some water... fuck... he's all slumped! told ya to be careful with it. How much did ya pump 'im with?"_ a voice behind him asked.

 _"N_ _ick pumped him, not me, man... two I guess, he was waking up the midways",_ the voice sounds sickeningly familiar to Harry as a one holding him answered...Jimmy? was that him? Harry felt him being led to sit on a chair he never noticed in the room.

 

_'Shit, man. Two? half the bottle would have been enough! no wonder he was out for this long. He would have been dead meat if he was pumped with the third!'_

 

_'He split the third on the other two... in case they woke up'_

 

_'Trust Nicky to stick to a plan! bloody clean that shit up. It's gonna stink!! here tie him up, Nicky will be here soon.'_

 

Harry sways in his sitting form as he feels someone tie his hands and legs to arm rests and foot of the chair. He is still shivering.

He could barely make three figures in the room and he does not know how long he sat there trying to watch them, trying to ignore his drowsing eyes and spinning head while his throat felt scraped and burnt after throwing up.

He did not want to pass out but he does.

If he knew what it is to come... he would have given anything to stay passed out for the next couple of days ... he will be sure of it.

 

 

..........................................................................................................................................

 

 

For the millionth time Louis pulls at his bounds.

They had been here for what felt like ages... not knowing where they are or what in the hells' name is going on. The panic and fear seem to overwhelm him, but there was no one to give answers nor explanations. It was Jimmy... and Brad as far as he could recall ... Brad was in the vehicle, Louis is sure... Brad had been driving the black SUV. Brad, who had been in their team for so long... known them for so long.

Had Brad sold them out for something? A ransom? How? Why? Nothing made much sense.

Louis had woken up some hours before, with his head spinning and heavy. Taking in the surroundings of the worn-out warehouse and his bound form, along with his quickly returned memory, Louis had known soon enough - his heart raising - _that they had been kidnapped_. _And for some reason, their security is involved._

Next to him, Zayn lay motionless. He has already been awake. He too, like Louis, was bound to one of the columns or pipes, supporting the high roof.

Zayn is in pain, Louis knew.

Whatever the fight he had put up when being captured had damaged his ankle. But with both of their hands and bodies tightly bound, they had no way of checking what the damage really was. Zayn's pain twisted face and silent form told that he was withholding the pain than he was it letting out. There is no blood visible in Zayn's boot clad foot. Was it broken?

Compared to Zayn, Louis had come unscathed. Several places in his body did ache, including his left cheek. But beyond that, he was fine. Zayn might need medical attention...his pain seemed to grow with time. He thought worriedly. But right now what really scared Louis was the absence of Harry.

He saw Harry being pulled in to the vehicle, and when Louis had launched at whoever was dragging him in, another pair of arms had pulled him inside against his struggles. The last he saw of Harry was his motionless body laying in the vehicle at the bottom of the seats.

Louis was sure they had him. But where had they taken him? Did he get away? not likely... he was already unconscious when Louis was dragged in to the vehicle.

Maybe they left Harry or had they taken him anywhere else? Louis felt too cowardly to even to think anymore. If anything happened to him, anything at all... his heart raises even with the thought. _No, he's fine. He has to be. He's alive... he is!_

Leaning his head back, Louis takes a deep breath. He stays like that for several moments, trying to collect his mind. Tugging at his binds again he looked around for the millionth time, trying to take in his surroundings. Anything that could give him any resemblance or a clue to where they were.

But there was nothing familiar - nothing. It is a dusty, old warehouse...a large one. A number of large shipping containers and piles and piles of dusty boxes were stocked around them. The long hall was partitioned with the same container boxes. Every breath smelled like thick dust, dry and aged, as if no one has been around for some time. There was a stairway up in the middle of the hall to their side. Maybe it opened to a door, Louis was not too sure.

They were not totally alone in the damned hall is the thing. He had seen several men walking around in the other edge. Louis had tried to call them out and demand any explanations... but they had all ignored him, not even bothering to turn and look at their side.

Who are these people? What do they want from them? Fear seem to steam inside him.

Surely everyone must know that they are missing by now, right? Media, fans, management... their families...

Louis thinks about his mother and his sisters. Had they been informed yet? His mother will surely panic. They all must be scared to death.

Louis wondered if he would see them again... He will right? Whatever this is, they are going to be found... these bastards will pay for this. The police would find them. Right? Shut up! He tells himself. If he think too much, he is going to lose it before anyone find them. His head runs wild though. With an injured Zayn by his side, no sign of Harry or his whereabouts and his body bound to a solid metal pipe with no explanations, Louis does not get much of a choice...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear your thoughts...


	3. Rather you sleep until I scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon his proper wake up, Harry realizes he is kidnapped. A rough encounter with a stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this point onwards this is going to be really R rated.  
> Warnings for violence, language and graphic torture scenes. Don't read if it's not your thing. 
> 
> Cillian Murphy as the Original character 'Nickles Moth'

 

                                        

 

 

 

A splash of freezing water straight to the face... and Harry is yanked awake with a start. 

He squeezes eyes shut right after  he opens them though, for the blinding white light in front of him. His body was sour, his thoughts felt jammed. He tries to get up and then  curl up. He tries to cover his eyes from the hot light in front of him...But he finds his arms and legs unmoving - bound to the place.  He struggles then, turning his face sideways to avoid the torturous light... utterly confused. Did he fall asleep? Where is he? his head feels like it had taken a blow.

"Tsk..tsk tsk" someone in front of him motions - someone right in front of him. Harry could barely make out a silhouette through the light.

 " _Harry Styles_." The voice sounds almost mocking. "The international heartthrob - What a pleasure."

  _White sheets...shivering cold ...feeling dizzy... dim light in an unknown room...puking..., Jimmy's voice... foot steps... men running around in front of him... He had tried to watch them_. _Someone had pointed a gun at him..._ Is this sort of a bad dream he is in?

Then the memory flashed in his head..., _he had been kidnapped_...

He tugs at his hands and feet, which seem so tight. There are people around him, he could feel it... people watching him struggle. Harry shivers.

The person in front of him sniggers.

Harry tries to open his eyes and look at whoever, but his eyes burns with the light again. His heart raising fast, he could hear it beating out of fear. Harry presses himself in to the chair he was bound, feeling cold droplets drip down from his hair to his neck. He felt himself shiver. The person in front of him moves again, dragging something towards Harry, a chair maybe. He sits in front of him and the blinding light lowers... It is a studio flashlight, he notices as his vision slowly adjusts. Trying to calm his breath, he tries to take in his surroundings.

It was a small room with a white bed. Several people stood around the room but with most of the light directing to where Harry was sitting in the middle of the room, he couldn't make any of the faces... Even the man in front of him sat against the light, making him just a shadow to Harry. But he could make the man with a camera behind the one sitting in front of him, he had a camera running. Harry struggles at his bounds again, feeling his heart pound in his chest.

"Easy there", ... the man in front says in a sleazy voice, he casually put his hand on Harry's thigh making him squirm at the touch. "Binds might cut... scars on a pop star won't look nice."

"W-what d-do you want? wh-where a-m I?" Harry's hoarse voice trembles. His throat feels burnt. "If you want money... just just take it. I- I have a lot of it ... just-"

The man hisses a laugh. His grip on Harry's thigh tightens as he leans closer, revealing a pair of cutting blue eyes and a pale long face. Harry presses himself back facing the death glare. Black hair, high cheekbones and defined dark lips, the face almost feminine if not for the sinister expression emanating from every inch of the face. The man  doesn't blink, his face lining up to a smirk... looking at the boy with a smug expression.

"Why do all you rich kids think that money can solve bloody anything in the world?" His voice comes as sarcastic as his expression. "Flashing a little bit of cash has gotten you to places, I see. But right here, your pile of millions worth as much as Jimmy's nicely signed contract with Modest, you know? which is a fucking zero."

_Who is this ? and where is this? Harry tries to focus. Is this some kind of a sick prank?_

Some dry laughs echo around him.

"I ... I didn't meant to offend.., just.. I-" his voice shakes. Whatever courage he had seem to melt under the unblinking stare of the face in front of him and the unseen faces watching him. They are all watching him... recording him. He thinks as his heart kept pounding. "I... just - tell me what you - want... I'll try to.. to-" he stammers.

The man smirks standing up.

 "Oh, don't worry about that. I'm sure you will cooperate, eventually... at least." He starts phasing around, quite close to the chair Harry is tied.

"I will bring you down to it."

Circling behind, the man ghosts his long fingers almost gently on Harry's shoulders. Fully awake with fear building inside, Harry grips the chair with whatever the limited freedom he has with his own bound limbs. His body shivers continuously as the man keeps circling like a predator.

 "You must be quite tired with the busy schedules I'm sure... Shows, the parties, awards and red carpets,... my world,"

Harry just looks forth at the shadow of the man holding the camera. A red light blinks at the front indicating that it is recording.

 "- Oh and fucking those halfwit girls... that's a main thing isn't it? keeping up to the image."

The man says mockingly as he stops behind Harry. "Being this big in the industry with such talent"... the man runs his hand up through Harry's hair along the neck, bending down to level his face with Harry's from behind, making him go still, "It must be quite the thing to live up to such a big name, right? addictive... like dope. The attention, fame - chicks to fall under and all the little too expensive goodies...You can't get enough of it, can you?"

The man breathes to Harry's ear, almost blowing at it as he caresses the boy's long neck.

Harry couldn't be sure if the man was talking to himself out loud or not. His doesn't dare move, enduring the unknown touch around the back of his neck and the warm air pressing his ear. His mind seem to rotate between fear and shock.

But then suddenly the hand fists his hair roughly and his head was dragged back,

"ANSWER ME!! CAN YOU?"

The man yells out of nowhere. The sudden movement almost cripples his neck and he couldn't help but hiss. The grip gets tighter and all Harry could do is to gaze at the ceiling of the room while some of shreds of hairs break from skin painfully.

"Answer the fucking question, pop star!!" the man growls again, swinging and pulling his grip harshly.

 "Don't know... I..aah-" The fist tightens more and Harry could practically see stars.

"Don't fucking lie!!" The man drags sarcastically. "Don't you have everything under your toes... you flashy little money ball."

The man hisses to Harry's ear, shaking his grip again. "- fucking pretending to deserve all of it when it's just some big hands pulling your stings. Don't you fucking love scraping the fame for nothing you talentless cunt! You are nothing but a pretty face to drool upon chicks!!!"

The grip disappears, making his head fall forward. Harry lets out panting breaths.

The next second, the chair goes rolling, falling forward as the man slams his foot to it. Bound to the chair Harry lands face first to the floor with the chair, hitting his head and knees painfully on the rough cement. Tears well up in his eyes for the force of the hit, blurring his vision. Harry breathes hard, trying to collect himself, still bound to the fallen chair. He could feel a lump start to swell in his forehead.

He senses some motion around him. Chair drags up with him and the man turns it a round with a force that if not for the bounds, Harry would have thrown down to the floor. Out of breath, he tries to look up at the man who scorns at him with a piercing stare.

"Now, isn't this a pretty sight?" he asks, eyes fixed on Harry's distressed face, almost as if it fuelled him. The man smiles... sneers as he straightens Harry's shirt, combing his messed up hair. Pushing back as much as he can, Harry has no other option but to let the man ghost his hand around his face, his fear in a hammering rate. The man drags his chair in front of Harry again and sits down as if he almost wanted a conversation. Putting his booted foot on bound boy's knee, he leans back.

"For four years in the industry your little band is doing quite well in 'it? Sold out tours and tv shows. Where was the next gig? Australia?"

Harry just stares back wordlessly as the man pushes his boot to Harry's knee, prompting him to answer. There was something sinister about the man, the very way he looks at him. The pressure on his knee increases.

"Ss..suppose so..." he mumbles looking at his own knee.

The man crosses his leg over his other and let out a smirk.

"Not bad for a set of little working class brats who got scooted into singing just by sheer luck." he says mockingly. "How long is your contract due with the master brand, _Sony_?'

Harry just stares without a word. The man sneers at him again. Something in his expression makes Harry want to run a mile from facing him... like he waited to get in to this upper hand for a long time. There was a loathing in his face that Harry could not put his finger in to. Has he seen him somewhere? 

 "How long?!!" the voice comes louder.

"Two more... years" He says, unwillingly

 "With Modest!?"

Harry swallows, staring at the mad man with the smug sinister expression. He then looks past the man in front, noticing several heads in the room watching the encounter as if it is some kind of a show. The red light in the camera keeps blinking as if it's a warning sign. He pulls at his tied limbs, wanting nothing but to be somewhere else than here, bound to a bloody chair.

A hand swings in front of him, and he is smacked across the face, snapping his head to a side. His long curls fell around his eyes covering his face in a mess. His cheek burns hot. The man drags his face up clutching him from the jaw. 

"Answer, boy. How long with Modest?"

And Harry doesn't know what makes him say it, knowing it's utterly foolish. But the whole ridicules situation he is in and the man's puffed up mocking tone with the harsh hit to his face makes him reckless and want to fight back.

"Don't know," he says with a hiss "- why don't you fucking try Google?"

The man looks at him vilely for a moment, his head slightly turned to a side - as if he is daring him to say another word. Then, Harry almost sees the hand coming to his face, that he braces himself for it. But this time the blows doesn't stop. They keep coming one after the other...

"DON"T -" _smack_ "FUCKING-"  _SMACK!_ \- "GET SMART YOU LITTLE SHUM!"  _SMACK!!_

The man kicks the chair with such a force that it gets thrown backwards with Harry, falling to the side ... Harry feels him rolling with the chair once again, landing him laying to his side bound to the chair pathetically.

"It's close to the end isn't it? Fucking hipster!!"

Booted feet clashes with Harry's stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. "TALK!!"

 

Harry gasps painfully as the boot kept coming at his ribs, shoulders and head, his eyes tearing without his consent. With his bounds he could not move nor cover anything at all. He yelps between hits.

"No- P-plea-se ... pl-ease... s-sto-p..". He squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face out of the way. 

The blows are too much for him to take. He wheezes to hold the pain, unable to move, unable to fight. There was nothing he could do. He hears another voice cry out between the hits in the back, amid his gasps.

 " _Easy easy, man ... Nick, stop_!" Someone else is trying to stop the attacking man, Harry hears through his own cries.

But the maddened stranger keeps thrashing his boot in to Harry's bound body.

_"Nick ... , you buffer...  fucking stop. You'll kill him..., Nick!! Fucking stop!! I will bloody call Eric, if you don't!!"_

 The person is taller, bolder and he drags the attacking man away from Harry's bound form. Unable continue his lashing, the angry man pushes the other with a mad force, his face livid.

 "I will fucking do whatever I have to-,  to make him talk, you looser fuck!! You can skip playing the guard dog and piss off if it makes you cry or I will put a fucking bullet to his pretty head for you to snivel like a real mutt!!!"

The room goes silent apart from the sound of the Harry's heavy breathing and sobs he tries hard to stop coming. He tries to collect his senses, feeling several parts of his body burning with pain. Something wet was dripping down from his the left of his face near the eye. It hurt like hell - everything did, already.

After moments Harry hears heavy footsteps coming towards him and he inwardly cringes- his breath quickening in a rate. But the expected blows does not come this time. Instead Harry's chair was pulled up with him still bound to it by a pair of thick hands, gently than before. Harry pants trying to ignore his beaten up burning body and looks at the second man who had lifted him up. _Brad_... He just stares at the man's familiar face. _Brad??!! Why is he here? Is he a part of this?_

Harry's breath hitches as he watches Brad, still wheezing with a confused feeling of warmth to see _someone_ he knew... Brad's uneasy eyes meets wide, battered, green eyes which are towelled with hope. With a soft, apologetic rub on Harry's shoulder, Brad looks down with an utter guilt in his face. But then he just walks out of the room leaving Harry with the maniac he had called _Nick_. 

Harry wants to scream after Brad... beg him not to leave him there. But instead he just watches him disappear behind the slamming door with brimming tears. A hollow feeling erupts in the pit of his stomach.

But he did not have time to wallow in its pain as he was stricken across the face once again...he gasps this time, fatigue and burning in his face and limbs making him sore with each and every breath. He could not stop the tears this time or the whimpering breaths that come out of his lips. He tastes blood.

The one who Brad had called 'Nick', grabs his head and holds it back again with a force, leaning in close, too close.

"Fascinating isn't it? to see one of your own still standing up for you? But funnily enough, we wouldn't have been able to get to you if it wasn't for him." He says with a sneer at Harry's battered face. He glares at him almost as if trying to search for something in his face.

Then Nick bents down, placing his hands on either side of the arm rests on top of Harry's hands.

 "- And for a little lesson, _Harry_..."

,he says leaning closer while forcing the tightly griped fingers in Harry's left hand to open. And with his hand tightly bound to the arm rest Harry does not have much of a choice.

 "-don't you ever-," says Nick singling out the smallest finger from the rest and wrapping his fist around it tightly,

 He looks darkly at Harry's face... "- ever talk back, when you don't have the upper hand!"

There were no warnings, no hesitations  nor pauses as the finger was bent wrong... breaking it.

Harry screams even before the crack , doubling down as much as his bounds allows him to. The pain was overwhelming and he could not stop the sobs or panting. Nick holds him from the neck and pushes him back to the chair with a smirk without an inch of a pity.

His fingers rubs at Harry's trembling lips. "How long?"

Nick starts with the second finger, pulling it as Harry tries to press it down fruitlessly. His eyes are welling up dangerously. Harry knew he could not do this. He is not a bloody hero or some kind of a solider to withstand pain... he is just a fucking singer, barely a man just over twenty. He shakes his head frantically as he finds the building pressure on the finger.

"Please...I- I don't know!!!"

But Nick kept pressuring the finger wrapping his fingers around it.

"Don't. FUCKING. LIE!!!!!!..TALK!!!"

Harry feels the second finger being pushed up as the flimsy bone protests, burning inside. _He can't. He can't.._

"Ten... ten months" the finger releases as he pants. But Nick's voice rises again in the next second.

"Is One Direction going to extend the contract with Modest? or do yo-"

 "Ye..s..."

Harry says through his runny nose and welling up eyes. _He cannot do this... He is too weak._

Nick pauses but continues looking sharply at the tormented face, his stare marked with disbelief. 

"-Modest or do you'll have a different company in mind?" He finishes his sentence, wrapping his grip around Harry's second finger. Harry just blinks at the piercing, ruthless eyes inches above him. His heart is hammering inside of him.

"I-It's Modest" He mumbles again with the most convincing face he could muster.

Nick smiles, tilting his head. "You know how to play aren’t you, _pretty boy_? But you know what I think?" His smile vanishes and his glare turns cold. Harry's breath hitches as he feels the pressure to his finger building. "I think you are lying."

Harry shakes his head tight lipped.

"I think you know of what I'm talking about..." Nick says, eyes locked at his face.

Harry squeezes his eyes not being able to put up with the pain in his hand again. _He cannot do this... He cannot_. "Please do..n't... please" his voice pleads raspy and heavy.

Of course he lied. Nobody..Nobody knew yet. Not even the boys. It is their only trump card to walk away from Modest and their death grip on everything they had. He, with the help of some of his recent close friends in the industry had been building an agreement with one of the most high profile companies in USA, Azoff MSG, the family company of his good friend Jeff. It was his only resolution. It had been for a long time, for his desperation. There were rumors already, which he had shamelessly rejected in Modest! meetings and their interrogations, calling Jeff just a good friend. Of course Modest had been suspicious... but there were no proof. It was his secret... his getaway card. If Modest, Simon or anyone found out of the alternative before the right time... it would be the end of it. But Harry knew this is the end of it. If he spills it now it will get out... for sure.

But what chance will he stand against his breaking bones and this maniac?

 

With his finger slowly being pushed up, Harry struggles. Unlike the previous finger, Nick was taking his time to get the bone to crack, pushing it little by little to mark the each crack, break. It is a maddening pain. Harry sobs trying to fold his finger down... but it is no use...

"Please...no .... **FUCKING PLEASE!!!"**

Nick grabs Harry's neck from the other hand and presses him to the chair while bending the finger up more. Harry's body trembles with pain,

"Rumors of Azoff's, Is it true?... you've been cuddling under their coats for some time now....Is it true??"

"...it's just M-ode-" Harry screams as the second finger breaks, throwing him down the edge. His other hand was shaking and the pain was excruciating. He could feel the severe swelling of the two broken fingers. He whimpers head down and swaying. But he gets pushed back again, head turned to look at the merciless face. He watches the face with reddened eyes, trying to catch his breath.

"Would you confirm that with another finger maybe?" Nick pressed his hand down on the injured  fingers earning a painful groan. "I'm not convinced yet."

 Harry couldn't help but sob. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut wishing this is just a nightmare he's soon going to wake up from. 

 "One last time, Harry... confirm me that it's just a rumor and nothing more" Nick says as he wraps his fingers around Harry's third, middle finger, pulling at it. Harry knew he couldn't this time... He could not withstand anymore of the maddening pain... not a second more.

 "Don't. Stop, please..."

He mumbled shaking his head, tears running freely down his face,

"MS..G, They have ag.. agreed to ... they will sign us..s...ahh" Nick releases Harry's finger and presses on the hand.

Harry groans as the pain shoots from his injured fingers. Nick turns Harry's face to him. Harry just stares emptily with gasping breaths, his fight lost... not only with this pitiless man who he had no idea who, but with Modest as well. Because he knows it will get out now. _Modest will know_... even if he ever manage to get out of this, it will still be the end of it. There was only a fool's chance of that not happening.

Nick looks calculating and grim for a second before drawing the sarcasm to his face again.

"That wasn't so bad now, was it?" he says in a fake smooth voice. He studies Harry's face for a moment and Harry almost shivers under the intense stare. The piercing blue’s had some resemblance to Louis' in a farfetched way but they were lighter in colour and held a form of a ominous coldness. His raven hair pitched the paler complexion making him almost look like an albino if not for the hair itself. Nick's dark but absurd feminine lips turns upwards, noticing Harry trying to read him back.

He looks down at the curly haired boy with green eyes.

"This industry you are part of...," he says in a matter of fact tone, "...it's a bloody rigged up lie with bullshit money bags for sale... They pretend to sell talent but they con people with talent in to fucking empty deals and they leave them to rot in their hell holes if they refuse to play by their dirty rules."

He scoffs, making his high cheekbones stiff and his face looks vile and sadistic. "This industry is a place of bloody hypocrites with their greedy asses sitting on artists and their lives!!!" Nick draws a long finger and wipes off the trickle of blood from Harry's face almost gently, eyes focused as if to measure him. Harry pulls his head back as much as he could to avoid the contact, his eyes still tearing and his nose running. His hand felt numb with pain. The look of Nick turns to disgust as he bends down closer to Harry.

"And _you_..., boy... are one of the puffed products in this corrupt shit pit... picked up from nowhere, dressed up with fucking labels like a clown to be paraded around and lusted like some street _whore_ ," He runs his hand through Harry's curls fixing them almost taking his time with it, his face almost lined with an unhealthy smugness, 

"-they bring up shit like you because it's easy for them to control and mould little cash machines out of your desperation to be a part this shit hole."

Nick bends further in to Harry's face as Harry pants with the burning pain and overwhelming intimidation, "Unless someone bring you money machines down, you will pump up this fucking tycoons to rule this industry and party in their bloody mansions... while the real talent who _deserve_ it all is ruined."

Nick leans to Harry's shoulder hugging him like He's consoling him, running his fingers through the hair in the back of Harry's head as Harry started struggling to get out, but the man holds him tight. "Do you understand, Harry?.. Why I have to bring you down? So you can't go back to pump their greed and corruption. Do you get it now, why I have to break you?"

The man releases Harry with a false pity in his eyes this time and it scares Harry more than anything. His breath hitches without his consent and he struggles in his bounds subconsciously. His mind runs haywire with the burning pain in his body and the very words spoken. Fear scrapes his head off any other  thoughts. It is really like a bad dream, a nightmare that he could not wake up. But Harry knew this was too much of his reality... he had been kidnapped and whoever they are, they are going to torment him or worse ... kill him. And he would not be able to do anything about it even if he tried.

He tries to think of Louis and Zayn who he had last seen. Jeff, Xender and many of his mates... Gemma and his mother...

 

With a painful tug deep in his gut, he tries to think that someone will find him, save him before it is too late...

 

 

...............................................

 

 

 

Hazed with lack of movement and  boredom, both Zayn and Louis had been silent for a long time when a lock screech and drops with an echo inside the half empty warehouse. Worn out after trying to get any sort of a reaction from the men in the far corner who had completely ignored them for this long, they don't bother much as the door opens from the mid to the stairs in the space with a heavy sound. - So it is a door as Louis had suspected.

Louis doesn't even try to raise his head as he sees several men stepping down, - _they would not talk to them anyway, what's the use?_ \- until he catches the shoulder length curly hair and the familiar face.

"Harry..!!"

He calls almost relieved, his heart raising, making Zayn's head to snap at him... then at the men stepping down. Louis feels the terrible heaviness and fear in his heart loosen as he takes a slow relieved breath. But Louis' relief wanes as it comes... seeing the way one of the men half drag and half carries the curly haired boy with a tight grip around his arm. It is almost as if it was the grip that keeping Harry up on his feet.

 "Harry.." He mumbles again, unsure what he's seeing.

His hair was a mess... Louis notices, and he still wore the black pants and white t-shirt Louis last saw him in, but his feet were bare... and he swayed with each step he took even with the assistance. His face looks dazed as if he was ill. He seemed unable to keep his attention or eyes in a one place as he walked. Could he at least see them?

 "What the fuck have you done to him!!!!???"

 Louis shouts tugging at his bound arms as the black haired man clutching his arm stares at him. He keeps his unmoving glare at Louis as he drags Harry forth, towards them. With an unexplainable malice emanating in the very manner he held himself, Louis could guess that he's in control. Is this the leader? he couldn't care less, trying to get any attention from Harry's swaying form. But he gets none. Louis notices a cut in Harry's face which had a line of dried blood dripped down his face. He looks beaten down.

 "Harry!!.. Haz!" He calls with fear more than anything. "You bloody assholes!!! Harry!"

 "Louis.." Zayn mumbles concerned, as the dark haired man pushes Harry to one of the bulky men behind him. Harry swings back like a rag doll as the man manhandles him to a pole next to Louis. The one looking like the leader walks up to Louis and sits on his heels in front of him with a grim look as if daring Louis to say another word as the other two men starts tying Harry to the pole.

The black haired man watches Louis smugly. Pale skin, blue eyes, dark fleshy lips and high cheekbones... the man looks unnaturally sinister as he glares at him.

"You've been a bit chatty I heard, aren’t you?" he asks almost casually apart from his stare, "I've noted you are a bit too sassy for your own good, even back in the freak show x factor...mouthing off whomever you feel that's in your way... Brave little chap who would stand up for his mates and all that, aren't' you?"

He leans closer to Louis meeting his gaze closer.

"But try that with me or anyone in my team..-" he sneers tilting his head with unblinking eyes,  "I will gag your little mouth until you can't stop choking in your own drool."

Louis just stares at the man in silence.

The man hisses a laugh and looks between the two bound boys. They stare back at him with a mixture of fear and disgust. He fixes his eyes on Louis again and sighs. Patting Louis cheek with a smile, he then gets up as Louis follows him with eyes.

"What do you want with us?" Louis couldn't help blurting out.

The man just scoffs looking down at him. Ignoring Louis' stare, he starts to walk off with a glance at Harry's bound form next to Louis. The other two men follow him, only sparing quick glances at the two boys.

 

 "Harry... buddy, are you OK?"

Zayn calls wasting no time even to watch the men disappear behind the door again.

"Harold, please say something." Louis' voice is desperate, looking at Harry's slumped form. "Haz..??"

Harry just moves slightly, almost as he was drunk. Is he drugged?

 "Harry, please tell me you’re fine..." Louis tries again, tugging at his arms. His nose is running and he eyes are warming up.

 "I think he's drugged" Zayn says weakly in a mumble, as if reading out Louis thoughts.

 "Harry" Louis tries.

 But it is no use. Harry just sits there, bound, ... his long curly hair a mess, face paler and out of senses. It is as if he had no clue that Louis and Zayn were there next to him.

 Louis keeps calling him, desperate to get some kind of a reaction, refusing to give up. Zayn could just watch with a burning fear in his heart. Louis' voice stings his ears painfully for hours and hours... slurring and tiring. Zayn feels helpless and pained beyond anything. Fear keeps creeping in, as same as the agony in his own ankle that had been burning   since he woke up in this unknown hell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a long chapter. Hope I didn't mess it up. Have to mention again that I'm sort of using incidents and people around 1D and mixing them up in my head. This is a complete AU so most of the things are made up to set the story. Just wanted to mention it to not to offend anyone.  
> Please comment and give me kudos, it will really make the updates fast.


	4. Shaded faces will always have reasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Niall try to cope with the situation. A random phone call between two, which would reveal more of two original characters, Nick & Eric.  
> Meanwhile Harry wakes up to see Louis and Zayn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A difficult chapter to write. There are answers to many things that had been happening and hints of things to come too. It’s a bit longer than I expected. Enjoy!

 

                                

 

 

A haze of smoke floated in the poorly lit balcony of the hospital ward. Time is nearing midnight and the air seem to be filled with a heavy dampness on top of the smoke. Drizzling wind around is mixed with the sounds of distant vehicles from highways below.

Liam and Niall sat on the balcony floor trying to stain the night with streaks of smoke. The dampness is getting in to their skin, making them shiver, but neither of them said anything. Maybe it was better to be freezing than to admit to the hollow feeling kept nagging them like the smoky air around them. They wanted a distraction from all the pressure, comforting words, pitiful gestures and things to do lists probed by their management teams. It all felt strangely overwhelming and painful.

 Liam takes a long puff from his burning cigarette and blocked his breath in hope that it will give him some warmth.

It is unethical to smoke in hospitals… he knew, but he could not care less for this once.

After almost twenty-four hours, there still had no progression ... so they were told by the management. There were no explanations yet, or no faces they could draw in to make any sense of anything nor clues or reason.

It is like Zayn, Harry and Louis had just disappeared from the face of earth.

 

The meeting with the management heads half an hour ago had both of them listening for hours as they explained the strategy to take on social media and interviews to control anything from getting out. The heartbreaking story of the car crash and boys under medical care, with three of them being critical, might give them some time to stroll with. But the media and fans will soon demand proof, photos and reports.... not least their contractors and business partners, to make sure the plans are intact. Millions will be at stake if they did not cooperate, the management had explained to them.

But for Liam and Niall, it was the last thing to be worried about right now.

They both are transfixed with dread  for their mates safety - their very lives, thoughts of uncertainty hammering them. For God's sake they had seen _Jimmy_ , one of their own, lift a pain struck Zayn by his neck and push him inside the SUV right in front of them. Other than several fan and paparazzi mobs none of them had really met with real violence. They are famous... yes, and they are multi-millionaires, yes... but none of them are hardy enough for something like this. Even Zayn who lost his temper time to time with a habit of smashing things around him would be no match for ambush or thugs... neither is Louis with his hot temper and over pouring sass. Liam need not even think about Harry who is nothing but an a quirky oversized kid.

They were beyond scared for what the three lads might be facing even right now as they sat here trying to smoke their minds to oblivion. Liam hoped for the God that three of them are far from any harm... or worse. If anything happens, what will they do? How will their families cope? What will the three mothers say?

Both Liam and Niall dreaded their arrival to the hospital tomorrow.

 

The sliding door to the balcony opens cutting Liam’s line of thoughts short. A brown haired girl in black pants and casual oversize green sweater steps out, carrying two cups of steaming coffee in her hands. She wrinkles her nose with a light hiss at the damp smoke around and tries to blow off the air in front of her. Eleanor never quite liked smoking, Liam knew.

Her face looked hardened despite her usual soft features.

"Hey" she says crossing her legs and sitting next to Liam on the ground. She passes the two steaming cups with a sound between a sniff and a sigh.

Up-close now, her eyes look puffy and face almost pale. Dark circles were under her usually bright eyes. The green sweater looks too big for her. Liam is sure it's Louis'...and in a distant memory it might have belonged to Harry, Liam thought. He did not know what to read to it.

The smoky balcony is suddenly graced with the smell of coffee. Liam holds the cup in his palms trying to absorb its heat after passing the other cup to Niall. It feels blessingly warm in his hand. "Thanks" he says with a grateful note.

Eleanor just nods, her feathery haired head looking down.

"How's Perrie?" Liam tries to keep his voice as casual as he could... not wanting to draw tears, now that she is finally coping.

 Eleanor looks at Liam and purses her lips "Not that good. Still furious and very teary" she smiles reluctantly. It does not reach her eyes... "Soph's with her"

Liam just nods, taking a sip from the warm coffee. He could barely blame Perrie for losing it at the management. She had directly told them off for lying about the kidnap unlike El who had just sat dumbstruck with fear and silent tears trickling down her face.

"I wish I called him last night"... Eleanor says looking in the distance.

Liam just stares at the dark brown colour of his coffee. Talking to El about Louis suddenly feels awkward, due to everything that happened before the disaster struck.

"...or the day before'\\." She sighs with a soft edginess in her voice."'I was out with my friends and I didn't want to disturb him because of the show." She says with a slight sniff.

"You didn't know that this was going to happen, El" Liam tries as Niall looks aloof as if he's there alone.

"I always call him before I sleep... but I didn't coz it was late.... I messaged him yesterday but he didn't reply me... I just ... I'm so stupid.... I could have called him before the show... I always call him before the show..." She leans forward as her body shakes slightly.

Liam wants to comfort her but he finds him at loss for words as she continues,

"I just ... I stupidly waited … thinking he should call me because he was the one who didn’t answer..." She rubbed off the tears and held her knuckles in her lips as Liam put his arm around her shoulder.

Inside his head, Liam knew for sure that Louis would not have picked the phone even if El called… He is sure of it with everything happened between Harry and Louis still fresh in his mind. He remembers how withdrawn and quiet Louis had been in the backstage, before the show. But there is no way he is going to mention any of it to El.  Leaning in, Eleanor rests her head on Liam's shoulder. Liam hears her try to calm her breathing to stop herself from crying. He tries to sooth her with comforting gestures with an unavoidable feeling of guilt.

"I thought he'll be too busy with the whole Harry's video thing and the show... I didn't want to bother him. I was so stupid, Liam ... What if they? What if he..?"

Her body shivers as she tries to wipe her tears straightening up. "I don't want our last conversation to be a stupid ramble about some random fan asking him about bloody footy... It's not what I wanted him to say to me if I'm not going to see him again." Tears were pouring down her eyes now.

"Don't say that, alright… He's going to come back... all three of them are."

He manages to mumble almost distracted. Liam's head rambled with a mess of thoughts.

Was Louis going to tell her, his almost two year girlfriend that he was about to leave her for Harry, whom she helped him to get over with? Or was he not? Was Louis even considering getting back with Haz? How fair is it for this girl, who was beating herself down for giving him space? Was he going to leave her at all?

Liam did not want to be judgmental, not least now when Louis must be facing god knows what. But he could not help feeling irritated with Tommo for not sorting his shit out.

And Harry…?

How could he be mad at Harry... who had tried to take everything to his shoulders for both of them pretending to be fine? Liam's head felt heavy and spinning. He didn't know what to think anymore. He did not want any of them hurt... not least Louis.

_God he missed Zayn._

Zayn always stood with him when any complications hit them in face like this. When all the others sprouted up, hitting shit around the fan to create a mess, Zayn was the one constant Liam looked up to, to calm himself. And Liam knew Zayn felt the same about him about their brotherly bond since the X factor days.

But Zayn was not here and nor was Louis nor Harry.

Niall just sat next to him... still looking distant and almost pale now as if he was sick. So all Liam could do is to sit beside El silently until she calmed.

 

After dragged moments she gets herself up, mumbling them to get some sleep. There is a saddened grimness in her hazel eyes that Liam was not used to seeing in her. She had always been a light hearted girl with easy laughs and easy cries. Probably that's why Louis loved her. Where Harry had been a hike up and down a hill, El has always been a casual straight stroll. Everybody easily liked her - everybody other than Harry, probably. 

"We will get them back"

He tells her as she leaves, to which she nods reluctantly.

 

Cold emptiness creeps back in as Eleanor leaves. They sit in silence again for a long period. It's like they have just  fallen to a rabbit hole of nothing... No news, no clue, nothing.

Where ever could the three boys might be at this moment? Who had taken them? Will they ever see them again? He lets  his thoughts go wild.

Niall seem to have taken with an unnatural haste with his puffs - taking long smokes and blowing out making the air hazier. Niall blows out streams of smoke from his nose and mouth as he was burning, again breathing in the smoke filled air as intends to poison himself.  He usually never smokes, as same as Harry. Sipping his cooling coffee, Liam watches him. 

They had barely spoken since the incident. Between them, fear, pain and feelings of loss were too real. They needed some movement, some progression about the missing boys. but there were none. They felt like strangers without the other three, disconnected in a strange way. But, later,  when they lay on the soft white beds in the comfortable hospital room trying to reach for a sleep that seems so far away from them, Liam is glad he's with Niall that night.

 

..........................................................................................................................

 

 

 

 

 

Stepping in to his four room luxury apartment in central London, _Eric Seropsis_ curses as his land phone rings in the lime and white bedroom.

It was a rainy night... he hated rainy nights.

Very few people knew this number as he rarely used it for work.

He almost knocks his priced Italian crystal lamp with a silver framing as he reaches the receiver in hurried steps. Holing on to it, he checks the caller ID and clenches his jaw. He had been waiting for this call for hours… to his cell phone precisely. 

He grits his teeth but sighs trying to lighten his annoyance.

"Nick,... you were supposed to call at six. It’s past one."

Eric hears the scoff from the other side.

"I was occupied" Nick says simply.

 "Listen to me, Nick. This isn't a bloody free pass for you. You assured me that you won't- "

 "They are going for MSG... They’re fucking quitting Modest!" Nick interrupts, lacking his usual sarcastic slur.

Eric falls silent for a second. "What?" he asks, irritated. 

"The band. One fucking Direction. MSG's taking them over."

Eric blinks. Where is this coming from? He exhales rubbing at his face.

"I don't want them harmed, do you hear me? "

"Did you hear what I bloody said, Eric? , You promised this fucking label is going to get buried under with this!! But they are fucking going to continue snivelling around like little shits!!!'

 "It's just a rumour. There's no truth or whatsoever for MSG. It’s some media prep story" Eric says carefully. 

Of course, there are rumors, with Styles boy hanging around Azoffs. Not that it mattered to them...but he is sure there's no truth to it. One Direction is hardly their focus anyway. Some other Modest contracts are. But Eric knows One Direction is what Nick is obsessed on, even more than the fair share he is getting from this whole thing. He knows - and he knows how Nick could lose his grip if he gets desperate.

"We've done the research. There's no confirmation." Eric adds wearily.

 Nick laughs in the other side. "I got the confirmation alright!"

"That’s not happening, Nick. They've no plan to drop Modest. My sources confirmed of a rescheduling." Eric tries to not to lose patience, but he didn’t have time for crap and stupid paranoia. It's near 2 am. He needed his sleep.

Nick cackles. "No chance of your trusted sources knowing, Eric. The sneaky bastards have been working on their own game. I ripped it off him as easily as his expensive boots... don't worry, I was gentle.

Eric could feel the smugness as well as the tension in Nick's voice.

Is this possible? Would Modest let their main label slip away that easily? Never in a million years. 1D label is in top game now and Modest would never let it slip. If there is a secret scheme, he is hundred percent sure that the Modest is in the dark about it. And they should stay in the dark, for the sake of them all. Or it will price down their bargain chips and fuck up their whole plan. Modest would never move their feet if the boys are ran out of their value.

Nick had dug too deep this time. They just needed to use the boy to demand the hands and signatures. He didn't want this to go out of control. Why did he ever think bringing in Nick to this was a good idea? 

"You need to stop digging, Nickels. This plan is already tensed up with extra two of them in the picture. I don't want you loosing it because you can't keep your hands off the boy. We have nothing to lose if we stick to the plan."

He knew he shouldn't agitate the man. But sometimes Nick needs to back off and stick to the bloody plan.

 "Nothing to lose??!!! They are the bloody reason Danny lost it! And he's the bloody reason Danny's dead!!" Nick spat, Eric hears something slamming in the other end. He sits down the carved teak chair and grips on the crystal lamp top.

"Don't bloody get carried away, Nick. You promised me that you won't turn this to something personal. This is about Money and you know it. It's about millions... closing to a billion. There's a plan in progress and it needs us working for it. The message will be sent to Modest by tomorrow and we will demand the boys against their contracts. After that we will deliver the boys full and alive for their withdrawal of the contracts which will fill out accounts. That's it, Nick. Don’t try anything stupid. I need you to focus..."

 

"YOU TOLD ME THIS'LL BRING DOWN THIS DAMN LABLE YOU ASSHOLE!!!!"

 "And it will. As much as I know!! There won't be a Modest left if this works. It's you whose saying otherwise... even I highly doubt there’s any stand in it, you better keep it quite around 'coz if that gets out, and if it turns the wrong way, Modest will drop them right there and sign the contracts!!"

"I waited this long to see them fall and don't ask me to play dumb when I know that's not happening...I bloody forced it out of him and there is no way that he was lying! I will not let that fucking hipster walk away to his little bubble again when I am this close to make him pay for what he did!!!!"

 "Listen to me, Nick -"

"NO you bloody listen to me, Eric!! I waited this long because you told me there is a better way. It is his fault Danny lost it. It is him in his flashy little car and his piss expensive suite. I bet he doesn't even remember Danny's name let alone he died. I skipped the every chance I had to blow his brains out because you told me to wait. So if there's anything I'm going to do... it's making him pay for what he did to Danny. He's going to pay and I will make him puke even at the thought of returning to his pathetic flashy band for singing!! Try to stop me, and I will shoot him in head and be done with it!!!"

There is a edgy silence.

Eric does not say anything for several minutes. He knows it is useless... it is this obsession he dreaded from the beginning.

If he had any other choice, he would not have involved Nick to this. But he knew how close Nick was to committing something that would have put him behind bars for the rest of his life. And he could not have let it happen. Not for the sake of their mother.

 "Mom’s worried" he says at last, his voice lighter.

Eric hears a sigh and rustling from the other side.

"Why are you telling me?" Nick's voice comes annoyed.

"Because she is... when's the last time you called her?"

 "It's not my fault she decided to pack up for Greece."

"She's worried that you'll do something stupid with your bloody obsession wi-"

"I don't care!!! Alright?"

Silence overtakes again as Eric picks up a satin cushion from the couch next to him, running his hand through its smooth material. He could hear slightly raised breathing from the other side. Eric had wanted to warn Nick to not to get carried away after Brad had called him and told him that Nick is over stepping his grasp. But he knew it is useless trying to talk to his half brother in this mood.

Since his partner, Danny's death Nick had been broken man.

He had developed an unpredictable personality which Eric had called out as downright unstable to his very face. Following Eric, he had stepped in to the business, even being better at it at times. Where Eric kept to his safe white collar cons, Nickels has always been ready to go that extra mile for couple of extra zeroes of the sum s he earned. But after Danny, it had all changed it to something else. Nick had become stranger and angrier. He seemed to get pleasure in taking over mugging and ambushing people with bit of a background more than he should. He had grown reckless and at times out of control. In the end, Nick’s obsession over Danny's death had even landed him in an institution - because he had been ruled as harmful. He had been clinically diagnosed and deemed to keep in a facility, yet for his mother's sake Eric had gotten him out.  Yet there were times Eric doubted his decision.

Not that any of them were completely sane in this field of power and money with less humane feelings, but being over-emotional about something is far from healthy. That was one of the reasons Eric had taken Nick in to this job ... hoping that this up-close, things will help to serenade his obsession.

But now, after Brad's call, Eric was doubtful of his decision to get Nick even near of the boy.

 

"I have sorted the passports."

He says at last changing the subject because he suddenly felt tired. He checks his Rolex to find the time past one.

"Tell Jimmy and Brad they can leave by Thursday. Flight will leave at 11 pm. I’ll have the documents dropped by tomorrow."

Nick just sighs. "I'll tell Jimmy."

Eric stays silent for a minute "Brad called me..."

Nick just hisses, "Got the guard dog worried, did I?"

"I want to return his ass alive, Nick… whatever you do"

"I know"

"... keep it down about MSG. Don't want rumors screwing the plans. Sham or not."

 

"Night, bid brother"

 

Nick does not wait for Eric to say it back as he switches off his phone.

He wants to throw the phone to the wall and watch it break in to pieces, but instead he just drops it on to the table. At least he will get rid of Brad and judging stare now. He knew it is just matter of time that Eric demands to send Styles back.

He bites his lip until it stings. He would not let the bastard fly back to his fancy little fame and riches when Danny's lifeless body is stuck in a bloody casket decaying like some looser when he had so much to live up to.

With gritted teeth, he takes out his phone again and dials off a number. He only has to listen to two rings before someone answers."

 

"Check on the boy. Bring him in if he's awake" he blurts to the phone in a straight voice.

 

.............................................................................................

 

 

 

"- Louis...is that you??"

 His voice is raspy and heavy. Even he could barely hear himself.

"Louis..." Harry calls, his breath already hitching.

His body is aching all over, but his left hand feels numb with pain. It felt badly swollen and he knew at least two of his fingers were broken. He does not tug at the bounds... it hurts so much.

"LOUIS!!!"

Louis snaps awake, for a moment losing his senses but it all comes back to him with that deep voice which sounds over the edge.

Harry was bound slightly ahead in the floor so it was impossible for Harry to see Louis' face unless he turns back, which he doesn’t even attempt. But Louis could see him, side of his battered face and bloodshot eyes. Louis tugs at his bounds.

"Harry... thank God... are you OK??"

Harry's slumped form shakes his head in a slur, long curls dragged along the metal pole he was tied to. He sniffs. "Where are we?"

Harry's voice is barely a mumble, his nose is surely runny, Louis could tell.

"Don't know... Think we were kidnapped. Just they... I don't know why... they don't talk. Zayn's here as well... think he's injured... his leg is..., Harry?? Are you ... are you injured?'

Harry's breath was heavy and his head seemed to be swaying. "Harry?"

 

Harry's voice shakes as he speaks,

"My hand... hand hurts... just... broken I- there was .... there was this man. I don't know just ... he was, "' Harry's voice gets raspier and he tires to clear it. Louis knew his eyes are tearing even without looking at him. Harry always sounds distracted when he cried, he sounds as in pain. Louis feels his own eyes get heavier, though he did not understand half of what Harry is mumbling, with hitching breaths as he is both scared and worn out. 

Louis tugs at bounds again, wishing he could get them free to get to Harry. Rustle from behind told him Zayn is awake as well, maybe listening as Harry continued his shaky voice.

"- he's... think he's ... I don't know... he asked me ... things,... I can't..." his voice sounds scared, almost hyperventilating.

"...shhhh" Louis says leaning as much as he could with his leg and pressing it on Harry's thigh. It was all he could do as his own heart hammers with fear and distress...

"It's alright... shhhhhhhhhh"

 

"...think he's cra-..." but Harry doesn't finish as the door up the short stairs opens.

Louis follows Harry's fear filled eyes to two men who come down.

He was sure they were the same who brought Harry and bound him next to Louis.

The creepy black haired man who had threatened him is nowhere to be seen this time.  Wait... was Harry talking about him?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading commenting and giving me kudos. Please please please let me know what you think of the story and chapter. It will really push me to make it faster.


	5. Blame my faults

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brad tries to say goodbye to Louis and Zayn. Meanwhile, Harry fights to hold on to his sanity as Nickels Moth works to break him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really really sorry for taking this long to update. ( hiding behind the laptop and peeping ) I wrote and re-wrote this chapter for a long time too nervous to post it. I just did not want this to be torture ( though there is plenty of it) and there are some stuff I left out in here though I wanted to include them in this chapter. It would have become too long if I did.
> 
> Warning: This chapter includes violence, graphic torture scenes, drugs and mature language. if you are effected the latter, be on guard.

 

 

 

                            

 

 

 

 

**_Louis & Zayn_ **

 

Seconds, minutes and hours were passing by.

Louis and Zayn did not know how to keep in track with time. Other than the men who randomly and rarely dropped them food and threatened them with guns to eat with their _'fucking mouths shut'_ , everything had been still since Brad had paid them a visit. The dusty hollow corner they were tied to, looked same no matter how desperate they felt. With same dim light and silent men emerging, walking in the around time to time, ignoring their very existence in the dark corner of the damned place... they felt as if they had passed to a zone where time had no meaning...

Losing sense of time scared them... Because it meant losing faith of a rescue they were more than praying for.

Trying to get comfortable with the little movements he could manage, Zayn does his best to ignore the ripping pain in his ankle.

It seem to reach beyond his coping point every passing moment, making him almost whimper - which he barely managed not to. He felt nothing much beyond anything other than the burning pain now.  Zayn knew it's broken, no matter he tried to convince Louis that it's not. Louis already had too in his pocket to be worried about him.

 Zayn spares a glance at Louis who has his eyes closed. Head relaxed and body slumped, anyone would think he was a sleep. But Zayn knew he is not.

Louis hardly spoke after Brad showed up...

 

They had been asleep, though uncomfortably and famished, they were exhausted than anything. Even Zayn, with the steering pain in his leg had passed in to a zone between sleep and the exhaustion settling his closed eyes to the dark. 

Zayn had woken up by someone untying his stiffened hands, dragging him out of his barely conscious state.... _to see Brad_.

 _Brad_..., a man of their close knit security team... a man they trusted their safety with against mobs and the craze of the world... a man who knew each of them in behind their media faces and what each of their favorite ice-cream was and what had changed in their lives since the hop to stardom....

And the man who had betrayed them, to this...

Brad had eyed him guiltily with an apologetic glint in his eyes, as he released Zayn from his bounds, while Jimmy, Harry's supposed new guard stood a far, nervously looking back and forth to Brad and just about anywhere else than Louis' and Zayn's faces. Zayn had glared, shooting daggers at him, seeing the one who had cracked his bone that night.

Brad had placed some burgers and a packet of chips with two water bottles in front of Zayn out of the black rucksack he was carrying and had moved to Louis.

 "Don't" Louis had threatened, his eyes murderous and lips twitching, already woken up by the rustle beside him...

"I will strangle you with bare hands if you untie me and it won't do much good to me... so don't you dare touch me!!!" Louis' tone had been vile  as Zayn had never heard before.

Brad just had eyed him nervously and with a hint of shame in his eyes, as if he dreaded this very reaction.

Brad pleaded them to eat, trying to untie Louis once more but Louis refused profusely, no matter they have been famished without anything for god knows how long. "Where the bloody hell are we??!! And how much of a cut are you getting, selling our meat??!!" he had demanded loud as mad as he was.

Brad had not replied, instead he had eyed Zayn's pale pain stricken form and his useless leg. Brad tried to offer Zayn painkillers ignoring Louis' sarcastic hiss... but Zayn had felt too stubborn to accept, which he regretted later, much to his dismay. Zayn refused food as well, only emptying the bottle of water greedily to his own shame.

Unheeding Louis' protests, Brad tries to make Louis drink water in his bound form... which only ends up with Louis spitting it right at Brad's face. Soaked from face down, Brad had not uttered a word nor reacted, too used to Louis' hot head and out bursts.

"This will soon be over..." he had said, re-tying Zayn to his previous post. He avoided looking at their faces. "I will arrange someone to send food until...this - this will end soon... you two don't have to worry" he had said, in a tone of a good bye.

"Let's go, come on." Jimmy had pressed behind him, hastily as Brad hesitated looking at the two of them with a finality.

 

"Where the fuck is Harry, you twat??!!" Louis had shouted as Brad turned to walk away, probably disappearing on them.

Freezing on his feet Brad, had looked down. Was it unease or guilt that had flared through Brad's tired eyes? Zayn just stared as Brad gripped his hold on his rucksack while Louis tugged at his bounds as if to break them off. 

Wait... what's happening? What had they done to Haz? Zayn's head had swam with a sense of dread for the way Brad had cringed. 

 "I swear I'm going to kill you if anything happens to him...I'm going to..-" Louis had yelled livid, his lips trembling with anger.

 "I'm sorry, Tommo... I really am." Brad had said not looking at either of them.  And he had walked out following Jimmy, taking hurried steps without looking back.

Louis had screamed, struggling furiously as the duo had disappeared, while Zayn stared at the closing door. Louis had not uttered a word after that, not even to ask Zayn of his leg..., which he had done every five minutes before Brad came.

It was the way Brad had told them sorry, guilty as a thieving dog, that made Zayn more scared.

They have not seen Harry after they took him... probably days before... or maybe it is just a day before - they had no clue ... but Harry had been missing from their sight. He had been walked out merely minutes after he had woken up, after they had dropped him next to him, drugged or whatever they had done to him.

Through the pain in his leg, Zayn feels his utter dread increase.... where the fuck was Harry?? What have they done to him?

Why only take him?

Why had Brad looked worried and guilty when asked about Harry?

He tried to remember anything between the mumbles Harry made when he had woken up earlier, but he could remember nothing than fearful distressed rumblings.

 Louis is getting frantic, every passing moment... Zayn knew. Who wouldn't be? Zayn didn't know what he'd do if some deranged looking thugs took away Perrie to god knows where, in front of him...

Harry hasn't struggled as the two men walked him out. He had let them take them. Maybe he was too scared to fight. He had just looked at them while passing, and his face was something that Zayn would never forget in his life. The fear and desperation in his wide, scared eyes and paled face, like a deer cornered by hunters.

It looked like a plea for a rescue that even he knew won't come...

Locking his eyes with the younger boys' scare filled eyes helplessly, Zayn could just prey. That they will be saved soon to safety they had taken for granted.

Fear was overwhelming as same as the pain. Were they going to ever go back to their lives? Is anyone coming to save them from this senseless, torturous pit? Will they be saved before it is too late or is this going to be their end?

Zayn's mind starts filling up with all kinds of stories he had heard of kidnapping, ransoms and worse... cases where the police were too late to save the captives. Psychos with illnesses or instabilities, harming and killing at ease... Images of newspaper articles and online sites of lifeless, harmed, unfortunate victims came to his mind like a train.

Are they going to end up like that? Both his body and mind began to shiver. Is this the end?

NO... _No no no... don't think too much_. He forced his panicking mind.  He can't afford to loose it more when Harry is missing and Louis is already in a strop about it. He has to remain sane... he has to. Even for the worse. He refused to loose it... he won't loose it.

Exhaling a shaky, long breath Zayn tries to focus on different things... He tries to imagine him in the balcony of his home with his favourite brand of cigar in his hand, the smell of take-away on the table seeping towards his hungry nostrils as he waited for Perri to join him... He tries to imagine the light of joy in his mothers eyes as he randomly dropped in to surprise her out of his schedule. He thinks of the feeling of emerging art as he sprayed colour to his graffiti wall in his London apartment when he chose to shut himself in when ever the craze of the limelight became too overwhelming...and the times he spent with the four of his brothers in the studio after sessions and sessions of rehearsing, sipping at cool beers, talking nothing and everything, bantering and throwing things at each other... laughing at their own silly ramblings...

he just tries...

 

 

 ....................................................................

 

 

 

 

**_Harry_ **

 

Probing light and freezing cold.

Dread... Pure, merciless, dread... poking him in ways that he can not escape...

Everything stings... pain burns.

 _"P_ _lease... please - let me go..!!"_

He keeps trembling through inevitable sobs.

Nick laughs at the mumble of the begging voice, looking at the blood shot eyes of the boy, dangling by his arms. He sweeps his fingers softly along the damp, naked torso as he circles around the him, tracing the dark inked lines of fern like tattoos on the white skin as he goes.

Harry squirms at the touch.

His arms, stretched up, are attached to a chain hanging from the roof. They shot him with cramps being dragged up for so long. His bare feet barely touched the ground. And his shoulders felt as if they were going to burst out of their sockets. Thick ropes had already cut in to his skin drawing bruises around his wrists and they stung painfully as his arms stretched further with his knees refusing to hold up his weight.

Hanging by his arms in front of these men who kept making fun at his ungraceful form, he had no more heart to struggle.

"Play it again" Nick says gripping his fingers around the solid object in his hand.

A whimper escapes Harry...He shakes his head as he shivers, unable to cope any more.

The melodious sound of the familiar _'Story Of My Life'_ starts again and dread creeps in on Harry's mind like some awful sickness he could not escape.

The electric taeser buzzes from his back again.

Nick smiles as the boy flinches at the sound. Expecting the agonizing shock to takeover next, Harry jumps at the touch on his neck as Nick sweeps the long curls from his damp skin from the back, taking his time. What is to come would not be far behind.

His breath hitches as Nick sings along to Harry's own recorded voice...

" _...leave my heart open but_ -"

Then it comes out of nowhere... as expected.

Electric buzz freezes the room for Harry as a scream erupts through his grit his teeth. Layers of his muscles tighten forcefully vibrating to the tremor as the shock runs through his whole damp body. The currant scrapes every inch of his flesh, burning through his veins, making his eyes roll crazily. Thousand thin pins seem to sting at every inch of his weak body..

Then it stops, only lasting for seconds, but it feels longer. Harry pants on his own breath, letting himself fall - to be hung by his bound wrists - shivering to the mixed effects of continuous vibration and cold dampness of his half naked skin.

He feels puckish.

" _\- me that when I die these words will be written on my stone..._ Won't you sing, Harry?" Nick traces his hand along Harry's side, pausing at the hip and resting his head on the burning shoulder from behind.

Harry shivers in his bounds, whimpering for the extra weight forced on his already cut wrists. He ignores the thick pain in his left hand with broken bones as he unintentionally tugs at his bounds. Every fibre in his body shivers. He wants to pass out, to welcome the oblivion bliss even for few minutes. But Nick won't give him the relief until the end of the song... he knows.

He screams again and again as the shock runs through his body, electrifying his bound, hanging form, eyes too damp and mind too dizzy with heated vibration.

Everything stings and burns making all the layers of flesh shiver out of his consent.

 

Why doesn't the song end? He thinks pathetically throughout.

 

 

........................................................................................

 

 

It is as if he is stuck in a tortuous nightmare with no escape.

His body and mind screams to make it stop... at least for a bit.

But there seem no way out.

No one to take him out.

No one he knew...

Not a single face he could look in to, they were all strangers.

Faceless, nameless, strangers ...

 

........................................................................................

 

 

They scream at him. Mock him.

Call him a talentless, worthless, pin up. An industry toy to be used and discarded when his time expires.

They call him a media cunt, an auction piece that sells in to lusts and dim fantasies... Renders him to a flack toy and a rent boy in the industry. A quick shag with an instant hype. The very things he feared to become... very things he feared to have said about him.

It all pierce right through his ears, until he couldn't take it no more... until his stoic face breaks and his own fears shatters down from his guarded frame.

They mock him, and demand him to sing the sugar songs of early One direction years and beats him if he refuses. They make him sing, with threats to inflict pain... and he does, his voice trembling,

...because he can't take it anymore.

And then they laugh!!! they laugh at him.

They laugh at his feeble attempts, making him cringe ... pulling at his layers of layers of weaknesses... and jeers at his weak state.

 

In different conditions he would have just shrugged off those very words but here, bound, helpless and suffocated, the words cut through to him like knives on naked flesh.

 

 

...................................................................................................................

 

 

 

Harry would have given absolutely anything to get a glimpse of Louis or Zayn again...

For them to talk to him, to them to tell him that none of it is true - or at least Brad, even though he knew that Brad had betrayed him to this.

He knew they were there somewhere, but since that one time he had never seen any of them nor heard from them. Louis and Zayn must be somewhere, same as him, bound and tortured out of head. How far would Louis be able to stand this? this torture? And Zayn? 

If he could just listen to Louis talk to him at once... just at least his name... even in a whisper... just to hold on to his sanity which seem to crack every passing second in this hellish place. He tries to recall the sound of his voice in his head. Harry tries to imagine Louis' face ...his lush blue eyes, deep, kind and warm... Anything that keeps his mind from fear and dread.  

But all he could see is the dark blue orbs which reeks of coldness and hate, ...

The complete opposite of Louis'

 

 

...........................................................................................................................

 

 

 

Devil in the room, as Harry knew by the name, Nickels Moth, seem to feed on his pain.

It is as if screams fuelled him, setting his men on his pathetically weakening body more and more.

Most of the time Nick actively joins with his men, beating him, torturing him with knives and their fists, making Harry shudder, cold hatred lined in his eyes. Along with his goons, Nickels laughs at Harry each time he begs and cries for mercy but treats him with utter anger and violence whenever he protests or tries to fight - making it some cruel control game.

But sometimes, Nick just seem to watch...

Watch, as Harry pants and begs the men tormenting him to stop. He just watches as men keep making him scream as if he could get high from it. 

Nick's glassy eyes seem to watch Harry's every move with an unnatural interest and curiosity... sometimes settling to expressions that seem unreadable.

He just stares... and stares taking in every inch of it all is something that he rather not miss.

 

It scares Harry more, crawls at his skin that someone was feasting on his pain.

 

.........................................................................................................................

 

  

 

Nick keep playing music whenever he makes Harry go through his torments or games.

Tracks from their albums... Songs from Midnight memories and Up all night...

Nickels always plays their popular songs...

the ones they had performed over and over...

the ones he remembers the most...

It suffocates Harry, haunts him as the tracks keeps repeating mercilessly alongside the pain that is inflicted upon him.

He wants it to stop... but it never does.

 

Why are their songs so long?

He keeps thinking, hating on the very vibe of them.

 

 

...........................................................................................................................

 

 

 

They electrocute him, over and over, until he passes out, only to be woken again with splashing water to his face - and to circular repeats of it all...

 

Sometimes they strip him naked and lock him in a freezing box - probably used to store food - alone and shivering.

It is pitch dark and small. With blood freezing inside him, he lays on the floor most of the time, letting his body shudder as the music comes scraping his ears, their music... their damned music.

He tries to ignore it...

But sometimes it becomes too much... the blood freezing cold and repeated vibrations of their own hyper voices. But there's nothing he could do, other than to covers his stinging ears and scream to make it stop... rendering him to fall in to mad sobbing fits, which goes unanswered and unheard as long as it lasts.

 

 ......................................................................................................................

 

 

 

End of each session of torment, Nickels makes his men cuff Harry to the headboard of the white bed he first woke up on, and drugs him out of his mind...

 

The first time they drug him, Harry tries to protest. He struggles and kicks like a wild animal as the men hold him down, pushing a syringe to a vein in his neck. A smug faced Nick watches him unblinkingly as he uselessly still tries to move. His piercing eyes bore into him vilely as Harry's limbs goes slack under the increasing effects, leaving him sloth and flat.

He hates it in the beginning, but later, after sessions and sessions of faceless torment he almost welcomed it.

He starts looking forward to the state of sluggish slow motion of nothingness which seems to be the only sense of relief he could get...

 

...............................................................................................................................

 

 

"Take it"

 

Nick presses, his tone a cold hiss.

Harry just gazes at the cutting, blue eyes and the demanding pale face. His eyes moves momentarily to the needled syringe in front of him.

He backs away, pressing himself to the wall in the corner.

After what seemed like hours of screaming and beatings, he craves the slow oblivion and release from the pain his body is causing him. _Why can't they just pump it to him as always?_ He pants, breaths as his mind pushes him to just surrender...

 "I said take it!!" Nick demands again.

The tone makes him look at the vile face in front of him. _NO!!_ his mind screams... it was one thing if they did it. _No! NO no no_...

His head sways. Every inch of his body is screaming, stinging and triggering him.

"Take it... I'm giving you a quick break." Nick probes, waving the light object in front of the weary jade eyes.

 

"TAKE IT!!"

Harry flinches at the loudness. He hates loud. He wants to crawl to a corner and curl in to him self, bury his paining body in himself...

"Don't you like some sleep, love? I won't do it for you this time" Nick says in a sing song voice "- and nor will my men, you know..'

 Harry drops his gaze as he feel them warm up with heaviness.

He wants to... he wants-

"TAKE IT!!"

Harry's hand moves, half reluctant, half eager for the relief. His eyes well up with hot saltiness

 Nick's eyes are still fixed on Harry's face as he looks up again with the unfamiliar object in his hand.

Nick drags out Harry's left hand with an unnecessary force, earning a hiss as the swollen broken fingers are crushed. Nick wraps a line of cloth around Harry's arm, forcing the veins to pop in the pale long hand. He looks at Harry still with an iron grip on the hand.

Harry lets Nick place his syringe held hand to the position... He winces as the thin needle probes to pierce his skin at the pit of the elbow, eyes glued to the needle point where it waits to probe his skin.

Nick leans in to Harry, his lips almost touching the ear.

"Do it" Nick whispers, his voice dry and calm.

Harry hesitates, hand cold and fingers trembling. "Push it..."

 

And Harry does...

The feel of the needle pushing inside of his skin freezing him at the spot.  An unknown tear trickles down his face as he does...

 

................................................................................................................................

 

 

 

Harry tries not to fight back... even if he wants to.

He tries not to fight back because he knows that it's no use.

It only ends up with him laying odd angled on cold cement floor, dripping blood and tears.

His fighting only edges Nick’s craze... he learns that the worst way.

So he tries to suck it up as much as he could... he has never been an open fighter anyway, not physically at least. He would rather suck it up and wait until it passes, as he had always done... especially in last four years

 

But when Nick brings on _**Modest**_ , and scapegoats him for their plots and faults plus industry corruption, Harry looses it.

Blaming people like him for the clouts, the producing companies have in the industry, Nick tells him that he, Harry should take the fall for Modest. Harry knows that Nick is trying to reel him up and taunt him, but it agitates him and throws him over the edge, none the less.

For the things Harry had endured with Modest, being milked out for fame, silenced and controlled to fulfil media agendas like some trained animal, his resolve cracks no matter how he tries to ignore it all.

How could he bear to let Modest be the reason his skin breaks, after all this time?

 

............................................................

 

 

They have him bound to a chair, codes nearly cutting in to his flesh by the wrists.

Nick's mocking voice rings in his ears, reeling him on as long fingers swing a thin small blade in front of him. He presses a side of his head back at the chair and closes his eyes, his hands and legs numb with tense.

Nick grabs at Harry's jaw and turns his head back straight, his nails digging in to the unmarked skin. The cold blue eyes looks in to the terrified greens. Driving his fingers through the brown locks, Nick grabs a good chunk of hair, holding his head uptight, and then shaking it, earning a protesting groan.

"Modest's little bitch boy." He smiles wickedly, as Harry tries not to look at the sharp silver thing in his hand. His dread pushes up knowing what is sure to come. "I've got something you'll personally like today..."  Nick says before letting go of the famous curly locks. He sneers as he lowers the blade to the boy's shaking hand, taking in the fear and despise in the wide green eyes.

"Don't be scared... I'll be gentle, you know. I know how you like inkies. I'm just going to carve their name here so everyone will know that you are their little bitch..."

Harry doesn't struggle in his binds. Not anymore, if he could help it, no matter how his heart hammers. But his non reaction doesn't seem to sit well with Nickels either. 

"Cat got your tongue, boy? Or are you glad to get their seal printed in?" he squeezes Harry's mouth, gripping along the jaw. 

 "I'm not their bitch." he mumbles, barely audible.

"What's that?" Nick tights his grip more.

"I'm not their bitch." harry repeats with gritted teeth this time. His face bones hurt inside the cracking grip..

 Nick pauses and laughs... few around him join him with sniggers.

"You are a bloody Modest manufactured toy, Harry. You should bear their brand along these… little inkies you got yourself, you know? The proud trade mark of your make."

Nick releases his grip, but pats on the boys' cheek, like a master patting his mutt. "Perhaps I should carve it in your face."

"You are fucking sick." Harry says, mumbles, looking down, almost over the edge. If the man decides to peel off the skin from his face, there is nothing that he could do to stop it. Harry fully well knew, for his own dismay. 

Nick just smiles, his eyes cold as silver ice. He drops the sharp blade on Harry's shivering hand and leans closer to his face... closer than before.

 "I know I am,"

He says staring in to Harry's face as if taking him in for the first time. Running his fingers through Harry's hair again, Nick holds the long curls combed to his scalp and grips tight as Harry tries to turn his face. "They call me deranged and out of mind too," Nick whispers shaking his grip.  "But out of them all, only I do what needs to be done and I will bring Modest to its feet from all the tricks they play around... starting with your pretty face."

He presses his thumb to Harry's already swollen lips, taking in the wild features of the boy. It scares Harry despite the unaffected front he puts on right then. He Fights to keep still as he watches the man pick up the blade again. But he fails.

"You think this would matter to them? torturing me? I'm just a guy in a band who works for the label. It's my job!"

Nick looks at him for a second and grips his fingers around Harry's neck almost choking him. This time, Harry struggles uselessly.

"Your job, boy? Don't act as if you don't enjoy being in the spotlight! fucking every cunt you could rub your hands on. You are what they made you! And you are the one who let them!!! Modests' little cunt!"

Nick lets go of Harry and Harry coughs with rapid breaths, trying to settle his lungs. Forcing the fit of coughs to a stop, he presses back and stares at the cold blue eyes in front of him.

Nick watches as Harry struggles to calm himself...

The boy already looks wounded and snubbed. Surely there was bad blood there. Good! He thinks, Danny deserved every drop of blood and each little cry out of him. And if it fuels the boy's agony to take it for his bloody bosses, he deserved it as well. Nick bends again to Harry's face with a smug look as Harry turns his head with eyes shut.

"Since that sappy TV show got your butts in to the industry because some worthless dumb chicks voted you in, you go snivelling around London like musicians when people who deserved it were kicked out like dogs! And you think you own the industry now?"

Harry breathes hard pushing him back to the chair as much as he could as Nick holds up the blade again not breaking the stare.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, his voice almost breaking... he could not bear this anymore. 

He hits the back of his head at the chair, his only support and only anchor to hold to as Nick rubs at the back of Harry's hand and presses the cool blade down.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU??!!"

Nick just glares with burning eyes and sinks the blade to the skin as Harry winces, tears flowing freely as same as lines of blood from his hand.

It is not just the pain... he is used to considerable pain, with enough tattoos lining his skin. It is more than the pain... it is all the hate, the conscious infliction of abuse and harassment that reels him and this very vulnerability which he hates. He wants to stop his eyes tearing... he wants to get angry... at this man... at Modest at Jimmy ...at Paul... their whole team...or anyone who caused him to this.

He forces a smile with effort...a sneer, letting the skin at his hand sting at every cut Nick was making with all his attention as if he was carving some master piece out of Harry's hand.

"You think you can stop Modest with this? Carving their bloody name to my skin?" Harry grits his teeth through the stinging skin of his hand unable to do anything else. "You call out Modest for the stuff they do ... but you are as same as them... aren’t you?" his voice heavy and raspier, Harry couldn't recognize it as his own. "You are even far worse."

But Nick does not even look up, just continues sinking lines to the back of Harry's hand carving an extra exclamation mark after the letters. Harry ignores the tremble in his fingers and presses his head back closing his eyes;

"You're are even more deranged and fucked up to scoop money out of kidnapping than earning it yourself!...I know you are getting your scoop..."

Nick drops the blade ending his work with a particular deep cut earning a unwilling hiss from the boy. He stands up, eyes unmoving from the daring face, a smirk fixed in his face. Harry stars back harshly at his agitator.

"You just pretend to purge the bloody industry... but you all are really bloody thugs calling this as saving some bloody losers who could not make it to the industry"

Nick's face goes rouge suddenly... 

"What did you just say??" He demands, his smirk cleared off to a angry dare.

Pair of jade eyes watches him back, expression lost in pain and torment. But there is also resistance.

 "You are fucking mental if you think that slicing me up will get you or any of your loser nags in the industry let alone a fucking gig!!! Could've helped you better if you gave me a fucking call!" He spits out,

 - and then as if out of his mind, Harry laughs out of resolve...everything pulsing and clenching around him. He feels far too stretched and unable to take any of it a second longer. He wants to lash out and tear at anything he finds in his hand. But he's tied, immobile, helpless and bleeding. His mind is stinging as same as his beaten body. He craves a break, oblivion... the floating feeling he is so used to now. He was going crazy... he could feel it. So he just laughs feeling light headed and feverish.

 He laughs...

He laughs as the man tear him off of the breaking the ties, to be thrown down, falling easily like a rag doll.

He laughs as his shirt get ripped in to pieces, but he doesn't notice Nick grab away a leather belt out of one of the over sized thugs in the room.

Harry lets himself cry out as the leather bites in to his naked back, breaking his skin and drawing blood over and over in crossed patterns. 

He curls in to himself, tighter each time as the sound of the lashes teared his ear as same as his pale skin.

He struggles with all his might against the grips of meaty, over sized hands as Nick carves in a second and third set of same letters to his skin, just below his ear on his neck and his waist, torso and back ... just to agitate him more.

He screams... wrestling blue murder.

But for once, he does not beg, he would not for the sake of his own sanity. Not even when his body betrays him with loud sobs.

 

"The little plastered up toy of Modest with their trade mark for everyone to see." Nick spits as he examines his own handy work on Harry's body, I should send them some pictures, you know?" his snide voice mocks...

 

They do not drug him that night, just leaves him cuffed to the bedpost...

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you go. More to come. There are several scenes between Nick and Harry I'm was a bit reluctant to include in here. Hopefully they will fit in in the next one. please please tell me what you think of this. I would really love to hear if I have captured the story as I wanted...


	6. Going Under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically things going down under. Do you hate Nickels? Well you might get a glimpse in to his side in this. His reasons, growing pains and the madness it causes. Brad has second thoughts, but to what end.
> 
> Miles McMillan as Danny - I know....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think last chapter was too intense... well this might go a bit deeper. I’m not painting white on anyone in here coz this is not a black and white story… if you know what I mean. No one in this story is purely saints... not even the boys. But they are... compering
> 
> Warnings for violence, mentions of suicide, assault, guns and death. Please heed the warnings because this chapter is full of angst and violence.

                              

 

 

 

It is one of those colder nights… a one where you would wish for warm fireplaces with heated glittering coal and slowly burning wood, where thick warm blankets and sweetened warm teas with expensive cigars are of aid. 

But instead, his insides were boiling, reeling. Not from heat, but for different reasons.

Drawing the half filled glass to his lips in slow motion, Nickels Moth lets the liquid seep in to his mouth - eyes fixed on the gray wall in front of him. Its bitterness comforts him... least for a moment it touched his tongue, slowlypouring down his throat. He puts down the empty glass, lost in thought, as if everything is stuck in slow motion.

Inside his head though, everything seem to be pulsing- hammering and screeching.

Piles and piles of thoughts swimming around like large moths near fire. Old memories cutting in to new... Love, loss, passion, anger, death, pain and revenge crawling at him. Digging and poking at the cracks in his skin and bleeding his blood. It's as if his heart's beating faster and faster while his lungs refused to pump up the air to his body.

He could not breath... couldn't think...couldn't talk.

No matter what he did or how he fought, it is too late isn't it? Is it? Is he too late? He was too late for him... Him.

Danny...

Everything flashes in front of him as day... The moments. The smiles... Brown, warm eyes...pale, long limbs... his touch... hands on the guitar, smooth fingers... dancing on strings.... the voice...and the singing... fucking singing... phrases after phrases… hopes… dreams, fame, stardom, famous people… contracts... promises ...so close… he was close... Danny was so close to his dream... he was happy, so so happy - for a while.

Then... refusals, blanks... Lifeless eyes.

Drained and weary of loosing… beaten to emptiness, nothingness and defeat, again... and again. Being left behind… he was sad, Danny was… He was always sad afterwards. After he lost - got rejected. Drained eyes... bleeding hands and lost in thought.

Addiction... depression, loss... Nick wanted to save him, heal him... blow the life back in to his lungs. But there were too many holes in it... too many.

But he still sang … still.

He was getting better. He was healing…  learning to smile again. learning to live again with Nicky, his Nicky.  Until…

Until the fucking bastard ruined it all.

FUCKING STYLES!! it was the final stroke... final call from his conscience and depression. And Danny crashed ... again.  Lost it to the very end.

Nick remembers walking in to the apartment - to the very place which had been their safe haven, their home. The flashes of memories haunts him, boiling inside his skin.

Paling skin... dead eyes... pages and pages of lyric books lying... scattered...Danny on the floor... lips blue... eyes dull and dead... gone. GONE…

GONE FOREVER.

Lost, burning... he's burning... clenching with lack of air in his system... _Revenge_.

The sweet taste of revenge for his Danny.

For his pain... for his loss... his wasted life...

He has it right in his fist.... all of it. It is all his to take. He is all his. The billions worth, fucking heart throb... bloody poster boy of the pop industry... bastard who swirls around with swoons at his expensive feet.

Everybody’s fucking favorite...

And Nick has him all to him... to break...deflate like a air filled balloon. To destroy... to mark his revenge... all his... as he wished, as he planned. Planned for years months and weeks... his victory... resolution, his sworn nirvana. He has it in his very grasp to choke the pompous, ignorant little peacock... rid him of his glittering wings.

Styles is all his!!... to do as he please....

But all his could think about is those drained, wide eyes, almost weary and dull in their green... in a way, closer to Danny's... drained like Danny's and hopeless like Danny's... wild, long curls, - similar to Danny's. He almost looked like him in a way. And those fucking, fucking red lips... teasing, triggering bloody innocent face... _Fucking Harry bloody Styles!!!_

Nick clenched his jaw. No! no. He needs to be broken... the boy needs to be broken, he has to pay - and Nick needs his anger. He gritted his teeth.

The little bastard had guts to call them losers??? His Danny, a loser?

The very nerve... how dare he?

And he had asked what he had done?? DONE??

It had enraged him...reeled him to madness!! Nick wanted to tear him... slash his sinful red lips...rip off the wild, long curls from his scalp and shrink his pathetic sad eyes to nothingness. Instead he had cracked and bled his skin... marked his perfect flawless body criss-cross.

The kid had fucking cried...wailed and screamed for him...his red lips bitten to bleed... wide jade eyes stubborn yet far drained, pained beyond the inflicted pain... as in a habit.

Too much... it was too much!! It was far too much!!!

Nick grabs the empty glass and slams it at the wall in front of him with pieces scattering in to nothingness.

 _Fucking bow lipped cunt!!!_ He swore in his head bitterly. _Seducing little bastard!!!_

Lifting the already half empty bottle he gulps down mouthfuls of whiskey from the bottle with an increasing drunkenness.

 

 

........................................................................................................................................

 

 

 

 

 _"_ _This is a fucking bad idea..."_

 

Harry hears someone's voice as the door opens with a dim light seeping in to the pitch black room from.

The light switches on, burning his eyes. He closes them shut.

Have they changed their minds about giving him his shot? Are they going to pump him up to oblivion?? He thinks, shivering. _Good... good_.

His head feels light, despite his throbbing and stinging body. His throat is burning, raw and dry- thirst practically making him heave. He drags a deep, shaky breath, craving the black out... the nothingness and the floating warmth. He awaits hands to grip at his hair and a needle to sting his neck. He waits…

 

 _"J_ _esus fucking Christ!!"_

Brad murmurs, running his hand through his hair, as he takes in the sight of the boy the world is obsessed with.

Hands tied up to the headboard, slumped on the floor was Harry. Topless, he only had his trousers on, his body shivering with cold. His curls, a mess... flowing over the face hiding from the view. His naked back is lined with angry red marks like some sick criss-cross design. Red dried blood lined the skin where it had torn too deep, clashing strikingly against the pale, lean body. There were several black and blue marks over the inked skin.  _"F_ _ucking Christ"_ he swears again, stepping near the boy, gripping the cool bottle of water he was carrying.

He had tried... tried to warn the psychopath, Nick... threatened him...then he had tried to talk to Eric, to whoever possible… but he had failed... failed utterly. He hadn't realized how much until now. And he had not certainly imagined this... He had not imagined this when he went to see the other two, few days back... too scared to face the curly haired boy... or to face what he had dragged him in to. He was too cowardly to see. But on the verge of leaving for his ultimate escape, to his shamefully earned life, it was his last chance to atone, to say good bye. He wanted to…, for the sake of the years he had seen him grow from the innocent naïve kid to the world known heartthrob...

He owed him that much - It was now or never...

 

"You are bloody wasting time, man. We have to leave..." Jimmy calls from the door way his rucksack heavy in his hand. "If Nicky sees they'll be both done."

But Brad does not turn back. He lowers himself kneeling next to the green eyed boy who looks at him through the nest of his curls and unsettled, half closed eyes marked with anticipation. Has he been expecting someone??

"Harry-" he mumbles, as softly as he could.

Harry just looks at Brad, then at his hands eying the transparent bottle...his expression slightly thwart for a second… then falls slack. He lowers his head again settling back to his position.

Brad feels him holding his breath, guilt rushing over like black cloud.

He wants to talk ... say something... but his tongue feels tied... he tries- he tries. "Harry... I'm - I'm sorry." Brad slowly settles his hand on the boy's jean clad thigh... he feels too scared to touch anywhere else... up close he looked all black and blue. "I didn't-"

"...ve ..-te-r" Harry mumbles, face hidden under curls. Brad paused.

"What ..."

"wa-ter.." Harry repeats, his voice raspier and slower "D' you've wa-ter..?"

"Yea..yes..I have..." Brad hurriedly un-clips the bottle with relief that he was responding to him. He is sure Harry didn't recognize him. He combs off the messy, long curls to help him to water, sweeping carefully at the feverish skin. He almost flinches then, frozen for seconds at his place. Staring at the skin right under the ear - at the carved angry red lines... glittering with dried blood.

 _'Modest!'_ ... it read.

Feeling nauseous, he brings the uncapped bottle to Harry's lips, eyes still fixed at the red lines. His heart thumps out of his chest.

_What had he done...?_

Harry eagerly gulps in... but his system was not ready for the chunks of water to be poured in suddenly... so he chokes, coughing in a fit. Brad does not know what to do... what to say... he feels too scared to even touch the red lined back, let alone pat. "Easy - easy now" he mumbles, settling in to rub at the chest.

Brad's all attention is with the panting form of Harry that he fails to notice the footsteps or Jimmy's warning call.

He only looks up when the door slams open in full.

And there stood Nick, with a half empty bottle of whiskey at hand, eyes wild and face livid with bitter anger. Jimmy stands behind with a panic in his eyes, looking from the maddened man to Brad. He opens his mouth as if to say something but Nick beat him to it.

" _Get out.."_ Nick says dangerously in a low voice taking a slight swaying step in.

He is definitely drunk.

Brad stands up gripping at the bottle in his hand, glaring at the pale sickening face and glass cutting cold eyes.

He takes a step forward, distancing himself from Harry "I was just fetching wate..-"

"GET THE FUCK OUT!!!! OUT!" Nick lunges at him, gripping at his shirt and throwing him to the door. "GET OUT!!"

Brad tries to protest, of course he is stronger than this psycho scum… but Jimmy holds him back, dragging him out. He struggles in Jimmy’s grip as Nick thunders to the bound boy, booting him and splashing the amber liquid all over his red lined body and messy hair. Harry writhes in pain as the alcohol burns his newly cracked skin.

 

Jimmy pushes Brad backwards slamming him up against the corridor wall. "Bloody blockhead!!! let it go...he's done!!!" He shouts, making Brad tear his eyes off Nick, who had un-cuffed the wimping boy and dragging him up by his hair.

"You bloody can't save'im, alright!!! It’s done! The cab is here and we are leaving!!!!" Jimmy pushes him again and lets go of his shirt, face angry and annoyed. "Now!!! ...It's over."

Brad stares back at Jimmy for seconds his heart hammering. Not looking back in the room he straightens himself and takes off the wall, starting to walk along the corridor, picking his backpack from the floor. He walks away from the maniac voice of the bloody psycho and distressed cries,  Jimmy closely following him behind.

Without looking back, he walks to the cab… the cab, waiting for them to take to the arranged private plane, with no words exchanged between. 

 

They ride in silence, starting the journey ahead, eyes fixated out of windows in either side as the damned old warehouse fades out of the view.

Relief draws slowly in to Jimmy with each passing second as they drive along... away from it all, bags of notes securely packed on the seat with them. Within hours they will be out of this very soil, never to return. The private plane awaits to take them to Morocco to lay low until everything settles. Then they will fly to Russia with all the notes earned like pros of luxury and fortune. Life awaits... They have done it and gotten out. It is over... all good. But until,

"What are you doing?" he asks as Brad drags his phone out.

Not even bothering to look at Jimmy Brad unlocks the phone and pushes in the number he knows as back of his mind. It has all gone out of the hand. Out of what Eric painted it all to be when he showed him the way out of his own mess. Brad never thought it would go this far... this bluntly crazy and cruel. This is enough! Totally enough!!

"Put it down." Jimmy says, but Brad ignores him. Phone starts ringing...

If it is the end of his way out ... so be it. He is not going through with likes of this… He can't. He knew this boy too much, have watch him grow, like one of his own. He won't be able to live with himself if he left him to that. He thinks watching the trees pass by outside of the vehicle.

 

Suddenly, a click of a gun- and Brad turns to Jimmy.

"Put it down.." Jimmy says, his eyes stern, both hands gripped around the gun which was aimed directly at Brads' head.

He sighs…"You won't shoot." Brad says his face hardening. His eye does not blink.

"Eric said you'll get cold feet..." Jimmy stares back. No he does not want to. "Cancel the bloo-"

 

"Hello.." Paul's deep voice rings out... Jimmy hears it even with the distance.

Jimmy stares, face hard and almost… almost desperate as Brad stars back at him knowingly... and steadily.

 

"It's Brad..." he says to the phone…and it blows.

One. Two... shots.

Brad goes limp in his own pile of blood with the phone sliding down to the seat, glass next to him a mess of thick, dripping red.

 

"HELLO!... HELLO!! BRA-" the voice that comes out of the device gets cut short by another shot.

The phone blows to pieces and everything silences, despite the sound of the engine of the running car.

The driver, who had kept his eyes on the road all this time, spares just a one glance at the gun man who is now looking out at the passing empty fields with a hardened look in his eyes through the rear mirror before re-settling his eyes on the road.

 

The pace of the car does not change a bit.

 

 

................................................................................................................................

 

 

 

**_Back in the warehouse, moments before._ **

 

Nick slams Harry to the wall by his neck, easily manhandling him with his taller form.

Harry yelps and hisses as his back hits the hard wall, his damaged skin burning red with trickling lines of whiskey Nick had poured down on him. Nick pushes him harder to the wall, hitting his head back with a thud. He could feel nails sinking in to flesh, bruising around the neck. His hands automatically reach his own neck as Nick shakes him by the neck as his body dangles weakly. He feels uncoordinated with his own throbbing body and limbs. 

"Are you thirsty now, you pathetic little shit??" Nick grips even harder making Harry wince, "Is this place too rough for your pampered little ass??"

Nick's grip moves to Harry's jaw, prying his mouth open, bringing up the half full whiskey bottle to Harry's lips as he does. He pours the amber liquid forcefully, holding his lips open. "Drink up!" Nick orders, cluttering the glass against teeth and the gums carelessly and roughly. Harry tries to jerk out off it but the iron grip holds him to the place until the end, making him choke.

Eyes tearing, Harry gulps down the bitter liquid - throat burning , no other option left.

Nick chucks off the empty bottle over his shoulder, not breaking the searing gaze from the red, damp lips and toned, inked body as Harry pants- wanting to curl down. The bottle breaks in to pieces behind them as Nick lunges at him, closing the space between, covering the boy bodily. Harry tries to push the man off frantically ... fear and panic rising in a red alarm as a knee pries between his legs, forcing them apart, keeping him pressed to the solid wall. The smell of alcohol reeks in to all his senses.

Nick rakes his teeth along Harry's lips, invading forcefully, as prying hands runs along the body, scraping his already torn skin. He feels sickened and irked as the mans hardness presses on to him. Despite the drunkenness of the man, Harry is way too weak to put up a real fight... too spent and too panicked.

_Why won't anyone stop him...? Why wasn't any one coming...? Brad... Did Brad leave??? Did he leave him to this?? Wasn’t he supposed to protect him...? Wasn't he...  
_

Nick drags him with an iron grip to his neck and throws him to the bed. His body gives up for a moment, but then Harry tries to crawl, to get away. But Nick pulls him back by his hair, dragging him along the sheets, despite his pain filled cries.

"Isn't this what you are good at, you little peacock!! come on fucking whore!!"

Nick spats as he cuffs Harry's arms roughly to the headboard, locking him head down...

"Did we capture you right with your pretty model friend?? Caused the right havoc in ‘it?" Nick laughs, driving his hands under Harry to the trouser zippers.

He struggles frantically, unable to cope, unable to overcome utter dread. Nick punches him in ribs, and then on the head with his gripped strong fist, screaming at him to stay still. Air punched out, Harry looses his breath... and he blacks out with blows to his head. His body goes slack then, out of weakness and knowing there was nothing he could do to stop what is coming. Fear and dread consumes him as he lets tears roll down his face. His belt is unclasped and pulled off as he cries out. He buries his face deep in the sheets, tugging at his cuffed wrists as his jeans and briefs were yanked down. Nick drags him up by his hips holding him to the place and Harry yelps as the careless hands rubs at his torn angry skin. His head was pulled backwards by an iron grip to hair. He bites at his own bicep to stop his own wailing scream as Nick enters him, unprepared and raw, taking time with his drunken state. He tugs at his own broken fingers to focus on a pain somewhere else. Tears pouring down, he could not help the pain filled wail that comes out of his mouth as Nick moves deeper... and deeper inside of him.

It all comes to a halt then, but suddenly his neck gets wrapped with something, something hard and thick - his own belt. He gasps as Nick yanks it up, choking him.

Everything burns him...the searing pain, hitching breaths, tearing skin and humiliation… It burns him inside out ... for hours.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well… I warned. I actually had second thoughts about posting the last part… almost erased it but I felt it would be too vague if I left it to guesses. In a way I’m actually ashamed that I wrote that. I will pamper myself saying that this is a complete AU.  
> I feel bad about having to kill Brad like that as well. I actually liked writing him even for a short while. But it was necessary for his character. More will come if you like... 
> 
> Do comment if you can. It will keep me writing and posting sooner
> 
> And you are free to ask me anything if you feel confused in any part of the story....


	7. Suspicions & Contracts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Niall get a visit from Paul and an agent after a week. They will find that things may be more complicated than they think. But are they even close to finding the boys?  
> Someone close to Harry arrives at the hospital as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I got a ridiculous writers block and it totally ate me up. I struggle a bit when I’m writing Liam and Niall anyway. After two heavy chapters I think this one is sort of a break from that. But the plot thickens from here. And do pay attention to details because you'll find more of the underlying story here.
> 
> Anyways, here goes. Liam and Niall taking over…

  

                                      

      

**7\. Suspicions & Contracts**

 

 

_'... so in regards to that we finally, finally have a week to look forward to with much anticipated warmth and sun, not to mention less accidents caused by the slippery grounds behind your back yards. Brian?'_

_'Yes indeed, Nadia. We would be looking forward to that indeed._

_‘And talking about 'accidents' on a more serious note, It has been almost a week now that the unfortunate incident took place in the world sensational boy band, One Direction, resulting the five stars adored by millions across the countries to land in the hospital. Three out of five boys had been confirmed to be in critical condition, devastating the fans who had been camping outside the hospital premises with candles, well wishing banners and flowers for their beloved stars. We have Kelsey Jones joining us from the location of Mayfield hospital to bring us the recent developments. Let’s have look. Kelsey?'_

_'Thank you, Brian.'_

_'I'm in the outer courtyard of the Mayfield privet Hospital in central London and as you can see there are hundreds of fans gathered here wishing the boys a speedy recovery... there are candles, flowers and so many photos of the boys around, banners, and you can hear their songs being sung across the grounds... it's been a sad, sad week for all the fans of One Direction. The family members of Harry, Louis and Zayn who are reportedly in critical conditions are with them now, and as I reported before, they have requested the media and fans to give them the respect of privacy to overcome this unexpected tragedy. So there are no prying cameras and paparazzi unlike any normal day in One Direction fandom.'_

 

_'Kelsey... Are there any developments regarding the condition of these boys? Anything new?.'_

 

_'Not officially, Brian... no. The hospital representative and One Direction spokesmen had not given any new updates after the last media meet up four days back. Maybe it is the request of their families to make this a private matter. But for much of fan's appreciation, Liam Payne and Niall Horan, who had reportedly received minor injuries out of the five, had taken it to social media to thank the well wishers and all the fans for supporting them. Just few lines on twitter and the fans camped around here chanted their names, holding their phones to thank the acknowledgement. I think it was more than enough for the fans, Brian since the group often connected to their fans through Social media. But officially we don't have anything at the hand yet.'_

 

_'Yes indeed.  Well, Kelsey we will be knocking you time to time to get more news on any developments from there and we do appreciate you being there.'_

 

_'Thank you, Brian. See you soon.'_

 

_‘Thank you, Kelsey. OK. In the mean time here are the mentioned tweets by Liam Payne and Niall Horan which reads,_

 

_**'Thank you everyone for all your support. Appreciate y'll being with us through this tragedy. #Thankyou1DFans'** _

**_'Thank you for your love. Our prayers are with you Harry Tommo and Zayn.'_ **

 

_'They had been re-tweeted in thousands by the fans and the worldwide trends had been filled with 1D related topics such as #prayersfor1D #wearewithyou1D #getwellsoonHarryTommoZayn #getwellsoon1D. Online media had been uploading photos and revisiting memories of these boys appreciating their positive vibe and stardom with thousands of followed up comments by fans. Social media is practically over pouring with all things1D'_

_'Isn't it ironic in a way, Brian? Because a day before the tragedy fell over, the social media was blowing up with a scandal, pinning the most talked about member of the  band, Harry Styles with a very personal video of him and the upcoming model, Paige Raifler going viral. There were even photographs which were hugely graphic and -'_

 

 

Picking the damned remote Liam switches off the TV.

 

"Fuckers" Niall mumbles.

Sat on the floor, he draws his sock clad feet to his chest, leaning back to the bed.  With a long sigh, he rubs his eyes too harshly. He hates this... Hates how they drag the mud along with the sob story as if they can't help it. As if it is an accidental stream of thoughts to flash the story media had blown up all over everywhere. This is all a plush mattress for the media to jump on and they were doing just that without even bothering to hide their smug ass faces.

"Told you to not switch it on" Liam says buttoning up his shirt.

He spares a typical big brother glare and Niall glares, irritated. "Keeping it switched off won't stop stuff being flashed around."

"It will stop fucking up your head though" Liam says dropping Niall's white sneakers in front of him before reaching for his own.

 

Niall shakes his head annoyed, but keeps silent. Liam had taken to treat him as if he is this kid who just went through some bloody emotional trauma, someone who needed to be looked after and kept in company. Sure, he had been devoid of his usual chill mood and appetite, but who wouldn't with everything that had been going on? Watching Harry Louis and Zayn being abducted in front of their eyes and hearing that they are been held hostage over some demands on Modest is bad enough. Being piled in to this luxurious but utterly dead space, knowing all the media speculations and having to lie about it all - well, no one can blame him for reaching his limit.

They, in a very enclosed meeting with several management top shots, had been told that they have received a call from an unknown caller, demanding some bloody contracts to be cancelled for the release of the boys. To avert the dealings of some future contracts the Modest had been planning to push in payment for the safe return of the boys. It had all seemed easy enough in the beginning, as Stacy had told them that Modest is already on the process of dropping the contract and getting the boys back.

They were relieved and almost comforted to some point, hoping the nightmare will end soon.  But as the second day and third day seem to drag on, it was clear to them that something is amiss, and that Modest is keeping them in the dim light. Now it has been a week! a week!!! And the management is still playing a hide and seek game with them.

Each of the meetings with Modest dragged on with suspicions, reasons, ethics and possible dangers to delay necessary actions. They kept on bragging about the risks and reasons but both Liam and Niall are mutually sure that this is about Dollar bills than any other pathetic excuse they want to put in front to cover it up.

How much is really at stake? they didn't have a clue.

With even Paul going missing and ignoring their calls they were both getting edgier to an un-copable point. And being practically prisoners in a lush hospital did not help it at all. And after a week, both Niall and Liam felt out of any rational thought or patience. And top of it all, now Liam had turned to an over caring mode for Niall. He knew Liam is hiding his own panic behind, forcing a patient and caring face in front. That is what Liam is like. That is why they had been all used to look up to him when anything came on their way. But this was not like any of the things that had come on their way previously... And Niall knew that no matter how hard Liam tried to hide it, they are both actually in the same boat... scared to death and worried beyond their heads. They are both trying to avoid the pitiful looks and fake ass concerns by the people who did not have a clue what they are actually going through.

To most eyes, they were just shocked and worried of their mates but what anyone did not understand was that Liam and Niall were on the verge of losing their family...

Anyone else would not understand the attachment they had for each other.

Yes they've fought, bickered at each other, had occasionally thrown punches and kicked, hated and throttled one another. But behind all of that, five of them are attached for life... even with completely different personalities, only bringing out best as a whole. There are like five fingers in a hand. They are more than mates or even brothers. For four years they have nurtured and grown up, relying on each other bone to bone, because there were no one else that understood the craze, the challenge and fear of losing in front of a world who hawk eyed them. They were all in the same clueless, innocence and naivety when they first stepped to London, determined not to go back to their old lives. And they have vowed, whispered to each other, since the backstage of X factor, since they were put together, that they will succeed. Every award they won… every record they broke and every praise they've got was a result of that. They've been through so much together. And now, looking at that start and this moment, where only two of them were stuck alone with no clue where the other three were, they could so much as whimper at the hollowness that was threatening to swallow them. They would not talk about it though, because then it all made too real for them. So they hid from each other snapping at their own moods, because if they talked... just them two, they would have to face all of this. The loneliness, the loss and the fear, and they will have to admit to the demons they are even refusing to even think of.

Facing the siblings of their missing pals were the hardest they had to do yet, especially the mothers.

All three mothers had literary cried on their shoulders when they first arrived. Liam being Liam, had tried to console them putting up a brave face as much as he could. But Niall had just given up pretending and let his tears fall.  They both could not imagine what it must feel like for them when they see two of them walking and talking, safe and sound while their boys were missing in to nothing.

Both Niall and Liam along with El, Lotte and Jay were there when Paul had informed Anne and Robin of Harry's stuff the kidnappers had left behind. They all had practically looked paler, and as Paul told them of his suspicions of Louis and Zayn being involved in this might have been a coincidence, Anne had started crying all over again gripping on Jay's hand.  While the two women had hugged each other and cried, Liam could have sworn that El had looked pinched with the mentions.

Did El wonder what made Louis to be alongside Harry at the moment? With all the things going around, did she suspect anything with Liam and Niall's slightly edgy behavior towards her? Or did she feel that Louis is unnecessarily in danger because of Harry? Liam did not know. And he did not want to think.

Sometimes Ignorance was the only way to keep things on the ground, at least for a while.

 

Closing their shared room door behind, they stroll along the corridor to the level's lobby.

Gemma had finally come. Being in strict work schedules, Gemma has been the last of the siblings to join the gathering at the hospital. As close as she is with Harry, she is one of those people who got on with all of them well. Before getting her job, she often joined Harry, spending time with the crew, calling Harry out for his quirkiness. While having somewhat contrasting personalities, Harry adored her and toiled her like a typical kid brother, acting sillier and hyper when she is around. They have always been the most loving siblings… Liam couldn't imagine what this must be like to her. 

Gemma had arrived after a twelve hour long flight and Trevor had messaged them saying that they were already there. And for the dislike Gemma had for media show dances, they had brought her in through the private passage. Liam felt both panicked and glad to see her. She had called earlier and told that she wanted to talk, probably wanted to ask him what really happened. He dreaded that conversation no matter what.  Liam knew that there was nothing he could have done to stop any of it, but that did not mean he would not feel less guilty about it in a way that he could not explain.

 

Anne and Robin were already there with Gemma as they entered the lobby. The two women were in tear clad hug as Robin rubbed Gemma's shoulder from behind as if trying to comfort her as she held on to her mother. No family should go through such a thing… least of a one that is close and loving…

 

Not wanting to interfere with the family Liam looks around, ignoring the unwanted moisture in his eyes. The lobby is empty apart from the hugging family, two of them, Trevor and a man in a suite who was talking to a very serious looking Paul... _Paul?_

The unmistakable authoritative figure stood tall, chatting hastily in a hushed tone. Liam freezes, his eyes staring at him in a shock. After trying to contact Paul for a week with hundreds of ignored messages and unanswered calls, there stood Paul as if he had always been standing there... What the serious hell?

Following Liam's gaze Niall turns, catching the sight. But unlike Liam, he nearly pounces at the direction, wanting to thunder towards their head of security. Liam holds him back though - just barely - not wanting a scene in front of Anne or Gemma. More chaos would be the last thing they needed right now.

But Paul spots them as well, more like Niall's stomping to be clear. As soon as he does, he starts moving towards them... cutting his conversation with Trevor short as if it is them that he wanted to talk to. The suited man who stood beside him follows him.

 

"Where the hell were you!! we were -" Niall starts before Paul could open his mouth.

"Keep it down" Liam hushes, looking towards the hugging family. Niall stares at Liam irritated, but zips his mouth following the glance.

"Did...  anything new?" Liam whispers impatiently... _had they found anything?_ Looking at the suited guy, he wonders whether he was from police… he had no badge though.

Paul looks back at Anne, Gemma, Robin and turns back to them uncertainly. He seemed serious... and a little nervous. When did Paul ever look nervous?

"In there..." Paul directs two of them to the small smoking room next to the stair way. He closes the door carefully behind after the suited man follows, stepping in last.

 

"Where were you?" Niall blurts for the second time as the door shuts with a click.  "We've been bloody calling for. like. ages. It's been a week and all we have around is Stacy who’s fucking useless-..."

"I was with the investigators..." Paul says as if clears up everything.

"Doing what?" Niall says in the same queue. "It's been a week, Paul, a week! No one here has a bloody clue what the hell is happening. All they do is covering up for media like this is some sort of a scandal. They've not done any bloody hit and runs or fucked overaged married nymphs... they are missing!!! Is there anyone who cares enough to notice that?"

Looking at him wearily, Paul doesn't say anything. Small room falls in to a painful silence - silent phases seems to get too common around them in past few days.

Looking up, Liam sees the suited man looking at them calculatingly. He looks around thirty years of age, if not younger. With sharp, calculating features, he looks like a one out of CSI, a good looking one for sure. Gray suit, matching tie, shiny shoes... a possible gun at his belt... he is surely official. Did they really find anything? a location? or a lead? Have they found them?

"Why are you here? Is there anything, like a - a lead?" Liam asks carefully looking from Paul to the guy.

Paul looks slightly expectant and edgy all the same. "We _are_ working on something... but we don't know yet."

"Management told us about the call already... About the demands they've made on dropping some contract."

"Yes, no - no this is something else... just I, we... this is Alex... He's with the team." Paul directs to the man beside him, who just nods at in acknowledgement without a word. Paul takes a step towards them with an expectant face.  "We want to ask - clear out something with you, about someone actually. If you can sort of identify him from somewhere - anywhere...? Someone called Daniel Ray... Does either of you know him?"

"Who?"

 "Daniel Ray... or Danny... Danny Ray?" taking out his phone, Paul scrolls few times and stops at a picture.

 "Not in my memory..." Liam says, taking the phone from Paul. Niall leans in, staring at Paul's slightly nervous face. It is a picture of a guy in a pub, singing. He was pale and had dark, shoulder length hair - reminding him of an older version of Harry ... probably because of the hair. With the artsy look and lean features, Liam could tell that he is classically handsome and he surly had had a good sniff at something strong very recently. The guy looked practically dazed. No, he did not know him for sure, but there was something about him that looked surprisingly familiar...

 "Who's he?" Niall asks without delay.

"Danny... Danny Ray. Was a sort of a singer. He had performed in like small gigs and pubs in London Central. He was in the X factor with you'll in the same year but he got voted out after first few lives. He sort of continued playing in pubs afterwards."

So that's why he looked familiar... now it did ring a small bell to Liam. He vaguely remembered the effortlessly handsome older block who was a bit of a loner... held on to his guitar as if his life depended on it. He never actually mingled with him... Liam doubted if any of them had. Five of them had been too hyped on their feet at the time, naïve at their age, trying to take in the unrealistic opportunity that stumbled on their way.

"Just wanted to ask if either of you knew him? or if you knew any of the other three knew him - in case" Paul looks somewhat discouraged at their blank faces...

"You mean do we know if Harry knew him?" Niall frowns. "Well, Harry bloody knows everybody in those clubs... why is he important?"

"He just popped in..., we are not sure, yet. Just wanted to confirm if you knew him."

"What do you even mean? What is going on, Paul. We are stuck here without a scrap of news, and all the bloody management tells us is that they got a bloody call about some ass contracts. They were supposed to do whatever it takes to get them back - but every time we ask, they come up with fucking lousy excuses!!!

It's been a week, Paul ... A WEEK!! They are still missing! And you come here after going all MIA and tell us that this junky _popped in_? What the hell is happening??!! Are you people even trying to fucking find them or not??!!!"

 "There are five private teams working on this, Niall. _Trying to find them_. We are doing everything possible-"

 "Well you are not doing enough then!!! Because if you haven’t noticed, THEY ARE STILL MISSING!!!" Niall glares at Paul, shrugging his shoulders as Liam tries to touch him. Paul looks calm but lines in his brow pops up as he sighs, placing his hands on hips. His face suddenly looks haggered.

"Look, Niall, I know two of you are going nuts here. That you are scared and worried. You five are as good as my own, alright?. Harry, Zayn and Louis - they are like my own sons and I am responsible for whatever that happens to them. Happened to them. If there was any way I could have stopped it-,"

Paul pauses, running his hand through his face, guilt swarming in his eyes along with strained lines in his face. He looks down as Niall bites his lip, looking at him.

"I'm doing everything I can to find them." Paul says at last. He looks wearier as he looks up again. In his five years of being around the man Liam was sure that he had not seen him this upset.

  "m sorry..." Niall says leaning back to the wall. Liam knew that Niall always let his temper get better of him at the rare occasions he got angry. But he gets upset over it almost all the time afterwards, making him silent and moody. It was always Harry who poked at him and silly-joked him back to himself in those times. Maybe that is why Niall remained in his snapping mood all the time... because unlike Harry, Liam is crap at handling the blond boys moods.

Silence takes over the room again and Liam hates it.

"What's with this - this Danny?" he asks in the end, unable to bear the ringing of silence there anymore. "Who is he? What's the connection?"

Paul takes a moment rubbing at his nose, very un-Paul like... Liam notices. Paul looks at Alex for a second who nods at him. _What's going on?_

"Yesterday, umm - around five in the morning, I got a call from an unknown number." Paul says, his tone deep as usual "- usually my incoming calls get recorded due to security reason so..." Paul takes out his phone from Liam and swaps and types in some stuff. Stretching it to their side he taps on a play button on the screen...

 

The sound feels extra louder in the crammed, silent room.

The recording starts with a ringing... after about five times Paul's sleep heavy, rough voice answers a deep, ' _hello_ '

Then there's a thin, continuous hum which drags for few seconds before a voice comes up.

' _It's Brad'_ '

The voice says in a reserved, calm tone... as if the speaker is almost distracted.

And nothing... nothing prepares Liam and Niall for what comes up next. _A blast._ _A loud, deafening blast._ They almost jump at the sound, looking up at Paul who returns their glance grimly. The shocking sound continues for another two times as they stare at Paul.

The recording continues with Paul's voice, ' _Hello.. Hello, Brad_ ' but then with a final blast line gets cut to a lifeless beep.

Both Liam and Niall continue staring alarmingly at Paul. Were those gun shots? Was that Brad... Brad... is he shot? but...

"I thought Brad was in Australia," says Paul eyes still fixed at them. "He messaged me earlier, saying that he was, but that was a local call," Paul says carefully, "He was never there..."

Both Liam and Niall knew that Paul always considered his immediate team a family. Was Brad really shot? Where was he? Was he kidnapped as well? But Paul said Brad had messaged him... from Australia...what does this even mean?

 "We always suspected that Jimmy was not the only one whose involved in this. Maybe Brad played a bigger hand in this altogether." Paul says, without meeting their faces.

 "But... What the hell? Brad? It's not - not possible." Liam's head sways. "Paul this is impossible. Jimmy yes, we hardly knew the guy... but Brad? Brad has been practically with us since - since - I don't know..." Liam rubs his face and presses his palms to his cheeks. Niall did not move, his eyes fixed on Paul.

"We tried tracing the call but it was impossible... the number had a dead registration... we tried everything. His home was empty... everything gone and we found out that he had been severely bankrupted by his gambling addiction... he was financially ruined. He owed millions and there is a seventy percent possibility that he did something for money."

Liam just stares... What is Paul saying? Brad did this for money? Played a big part? This is all insane.

 "Are you sure the call was from him?" He asks Paul,

"We checked with sound wave systems…the voices match."

"But…"

"We tried to sort any clues, places or people that could direct to something... but there was nothing in his home and his family knew nothing... so I  tried his work desk and found nothing there too... except he had forgotten to erase search history from his personal account for last few days." Sweeping his palm over his face Paul taps on his phone with the other. He flashes his phone to the two boys with the same picture they were looking at before.

"Daniel Ray?" Liam could not make a connection... so what? Brad was looking at some small, pub singing hunk. Could be for any reason.

"He was creeping web on him for days." Paul says as if it was more suspicious than Brad saying he was in Australia when his call had indicated him to be in England.

 "Did you try finding him?" Niall asks.

 Paul just sighs "We can't... he's dead."

"What?" Liam asks crossing his arms on his chest, curious. But he still fails to make a connection.

" _Daniel Ray_ was found dead two years back in his apartment... an intentional overdose, a suicide. He drugged himself to death."

Liam and Niall just stares at Paul without a word as he continues,

"Few articles that Brad had gone through says that he was suffering from depression... that he never recovered after getting rejected by X factor. They were from two years ago so I had hard time finding the writers. They almost had forgotten the incident but I got confirmation from police reports. I tried to find his siblings but there were none. His Death certificate had been signed by someone called Nixon Manns, his partner as records indicated. According to reports Manns himself had gone mentally instable following Danial's death and he had been treated for sort of a personality disorder for months. He had been discharged to his mother who had left for her country, Greece. There is no record of him since."

"Ok... don't mean any disrespect, but why do you think this matters at all, Paul?' Liam could not still make any sense out of it, "I mean I'm sorry about his... _death_ and all but him being in X factor is the closest we even come near him... wha-?'

Crossing his arms Paul nods "I thought the same too... but the investigators found it suspicious that Brad had kept searching for this man when he was about to take part in a crime scene hours from it. It’s not like a sing along back yard... and there was this other thing that one of our team researchers found. Several online sites who reported the incident at the time had specifically mentioned the name One Direction over and over with the suicide...like his friends had mentioned that Daniel had just crumbled more with the stardom you five reached... seeing you all around when he had resorted to playing in corners of pubs."

 Both the boys keeps staring without blinking.

"What are you saying??" It's Liam asks Paul.

But it's Alex who answers this time, his clean-cut voice unaffected and calm. Completely contrast to Paul's.

"There is a possibility that this whole thing is messier than the eye can see, I mean Brad and his gambling, him searching about Daniel Ray which he doesn't have any direct connection to, him trying to call Paul out of nowhere and the gun shots... there's a chance that he wanted to warn Paul - or come clean." Alex pauses, taking a glance at Paul. "Maybe he was backing off, and they found out so they shot him."

 Liam and Niall eyes Alex in silence. Where is this getting? What does any of this mean?

''We have suspicions that this might be connected to Danny Ray's death somehow. Also in other side we have reasons to believe that the outed footage of your band mate, Styles is sort of a planned set up. And it's a possible that it's the same group behind this."

Liam runs both his hand through his hair, trying to process what had been said. The whole media scandal - the videos and images that had caused so much of trouble... an intentional, aimed shot?

"The images that went around the press weren't actually downloaded from the web... they were in better resolution and quality. They have been sold in to press..." Alex pauses, almost lowering his voice. "- by a person who had given his name as _Danny Ray_."

What the actual fuck!!

"...So we have a reason to believe that this Danny Ray is somehow connected with this scenario. Seems they wanted to really drag attention to the spot before they striked. Quite well planned and clever if you ask me."

"What about the call... the contracts Modest is talking about? Is that a lie?" Niall blurts out.

 "No,.. it's true... the call and the demands were made just after two days. We thought that’s what this is about. We had a clearer picture... at least we thought we did." says Alex again. "But then Paul got the call and it seemed too shadier to ignore altogether. We needed to get confirmation whether any of you knew Danny Ray."

"We don't... but where does this all go then? I mean what the hell is happening?" Liam tries, but he feels as if he'd been twirling while being blindfolded.

Alex purses his lips slightly. "The two parts leads to different ends... they don't add up. We are trying our best to see if there is something, because Danial Ray seems to be a lose end whoever did this was careless to cover up."

"Does the management know about this? ... I mean about Brad getting shot?" Liam asks finally finding his voice.

"No, not yet." Paul says.

 "Then you need to tell them. I... I don't like this -" Niall says, his arms crossed on his chest, he shakes his head while starting phase, "- this Danny or Ray or whatever. You need to tell them and get them to do whatever the demands they are after and get them the hell out of there." his voice is edgy, almost shaky, "They  shot Brad, right? You have to get them out!!"

Niall looks paler than he had been moments ago. Liam wonders if he looks the same.

 Paul just nods as if he was lost in thought.

"What is dragging, Paul? Why haven't the management given what they bloody want? Why are we still here? It's been a week since the call?" Paul looks at Liam as if he had just woken up, as he was even considering answering. "Why hav-"

"It's not as simple as it seem, Liam. It's more complicated and-"

 "Complicated, how?" Liam feels his patience thinning every passing moment.

Paul sighs long, "Modest - had done some huge investments... in simple terms, they have planned a flow plan for financials... to receive and invest, in and out. More like, they have been depending on the flow. They have invested in some big projects which would be funded with some huge contracts.  The particular contract, if they cancel it, would throw them off the flow and ruin it all." Paul looks at them both grimly before the next words, there seem to be a hold in their breaths as he says out the next words.

"Simply put, it will bring the at least half of the company down."

Liam and Niall just look at each other without words. The gravity of what Paul is trying to explain finally seem to hit the roof dragging it down to the floor.

"Shit." mumbles Liam after few moments.

"Whoever is planning this playing a big game, and they have hit right at the target in a one end." Alex says thoughtfully. "And that end had been planned without a inch of a miss. I mean the kidnap, the call, everything screams a professional planning head, apart from Danny Ray's pop. They are asking a lot, to give Modest their main act back... it's your label or half of the company to them."

 

"T...they are n-not..." Niall almost whispers making the other three look at him. "They are three. living. guys. Not a _bloody_ lab-el." Niall's voice almost cracks.

 Alex's eyes pause at Niall, and even if none of them notices, he flinches, just for a second. He recovers soon though, to his calm form.

"Modest had agreed to go with the demands if there is no other way... the caller had given a two weeks time for them. We are trying our best to find the boys before that but..." 

"So Modest is dragging it for two weeks? They'll keep them there with whomever the thugs that took them for another six seven days? No, no way!! You just told us about a bloody Danny who had supposedly died and a possibility of a connection somewhere there... what if they bloody kill them??!!!"

"No... no. That won’t happen, Niall. We’ll get them back. We will try and get them to negotiate to at least release one of the-"

 

Suddenly a knock on the door makes Paul to swallow his words.

The door opens slowly, and Gemma steps in to the room. Her eyes were blotchy, skin pinched red. Despite her tired and pained features, there seem to be a hardened look in her eyes as if she had caught them molesting something that belonged to her.

She leans back to the door, letting it close behind her. Her brown eyes finds Liam, Paul and Niall as Alex's sharp gaze falls on her. She ignores him though.

"Can anyone tell me what the hell happened the night before they got taken? Because my brother called me that day around four in the morning crying his head off, asking me to come to Australia that night with him…and he doesn’t _cry_ when his pictures get posted online…"

Gemma frowns at them as they stare back at her wordlessly.

Crossing his arms on his suited chest, Alex suddenly gazes between them looking quite out of place.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A bit deep in to the story... It is more of what happens in the other side. Though this story is very Harry-Centric/Louis centric, this part is quite necessary to the story build. Also I’ve written Gemma in to this. I just totally love her. She totally reminds me of my own sister who is living far, far away from me.  
> Please read and comment. I love to hear your thoughts as always. And if you have any concerns regarding the story don't hesitate to ask.
> 
> (Heavy warnings for next chapter again)


	8. Keep The Eyes Wide Shut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A memory out of Louis' pocket as in present, Nick continues to push and break Harry, who might be reaching a snap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of violence, assault, degradation and more angst. Well by now I hope that everyone had figured out that this is not a kids story. Nothing much graphic is here only some disturbing themes.

     

                                         

**8\. Keep The Eyes Wide Shut**

**_Past_   - Louis**

_Running the thumb along the nape of his neck through the soft brown curls, Louis tries to ignore the creeping daylight of their tent. His skin feels soft and Louis wants to kiss him there - so he does._

_Harry's breath hitches. He snuggles in to the body behind him, warm and  smooth. He's awake then, pretending to sleep.  With a wicked smile Louis licks the same place with a pointed tongue- and Harry giggles, tickled._

  _Drawing his fingers along the pale, perfect skin, he turns him to his back, climbing on top of  his gangly body - covering him. Green eyes find his blues. Harry bites his plump bow lips, staring at him. It is such a sinful sight - innocent but utterly sinful. Louis should burn in hell._

_Getting comfortable Louis presses his naked body slowly to the boy beneath him, warming him, they felt so fitting, right? Leaning up, Harry goes for a quick soft kiss, then falling back to rest._

_"Alright_ _?"_

_His doe eyes blinks at Louis' not so subtle face. Harry nods. He looks so young like this... He is 16 you idiot! He is young!!..._

_After much flirting around and playing around, now they are here, in each others arms - in a tent, camping in leads festival with hundreds of people outside. A ironic it sounds, he would rather not be anywhere else._

_He starts placing soft kisses all over the creamy skin, reaching for the mess of curls, running his fingers through them. Harry's own long fingers reaches for Louis' in a match, curling in a little more tightly. Dragging the older boy to him, he leaves a wet trail along his collarbone, his lips feverish against the skin._

_Louis reaches for his face... catching those red lips with his own. Their lips cuddle one another wetly and softly first, but slowly starts to heat up with hushed moans which make Louis' head sway. He runs his fingers on every bit of skin he could reach, as if it was the last time they were going to touch. The memories of last night slither in to his head, warming his insides all over. Harry moans, burying his fingers in Louis' soft hair as Louis nibbles at the lower lip. Louis could feel him getting hard._

_This boy is going to be the end of him..._

_Not breaking the kiss he slowly sits back, dragging the long limbed younger one with him. The duvet peels down from them only half covering their warm skins. Hands roam along Louis back and then chest, slowly reaching down.  Louis holds his face with both hands and kisses him deep once more before breaking away. Harry whimpers with the loss as Louis clutches the sneaking hands with his own, leaning his head forward to catch the others’._

_Their foreheads touch. "We said we'll take it slow, OK?" he whispers with a sigh._

_The younger boy wines, "I'm not a kid, Lo..u."_

_He just smiles, breaking the head away carefully and looking at the adorable pixie face. His morning hair looks ridiculously cute on him._

_"I know... but the taxi will be here within an hour. We have to get ready."_

_Harry rolls his eyes. Louis sighs, running his thumb over kiss pinched cheek. God, he loved this boy and everything about him... more he spent time with him, more it seemed to burn with in him, and it is diving him crazy._

_Harry pouts disappointed and Louis imitates, mirroring his face.  Harry's eyes turns mischievous and he makes a wicked face, suddenly pouncing at the older boy, trying to catch his mouth with his lips. Louis pushes his face back with his palm making the curly haired boy stumble back to his seat._

_Harry giggles then, fanning his lashes. His rosy lips pout in a very bitable way. What a fucking bambi... The world is obsessing over this charming cheeky lad... his hair, his dimples and the girls he is supposed to be with. But here he is... in his arms, Louis Bloody Tomlinson's  arms, pouting, trying to get Louis to kiss him._

_When did he get this lucky?_

_Sighing away his soppy thoughts, Louis reaches for Harry's neck and plants a quick kiss._

_"Come on. Rise and shine, babe. We have to go. Can you walk?"_

_Harry makes a face._

_"Don't be ridiculous" he says getting up, annoyed that Louis was treating him as if he had hurt him. Yes, they were a little hyped last night... Harry wanted it to be perfect. He wanted Louis to want him - he wanted him... but he is too inexperienced, too childish while Louis is older and had more experience with it all, but it was not like it was his first time. Well maybe, the proper first time with a boy. But still... the slight unease is completely copable. What is not copable was his feathery haired older band mate in front of him... eyes shiny blue and so insanely handsome... totally kissable._

_Louis raises his eyebrows as Harry makes a show of getting up, shedding the blanket away, his nice little body on display. Totally obscene... It sends tingles to some parts of Louis body._ _But then the next moment his leg gets stuck in the tangled blanket making him got off balance. He goes stumbling down as Louis reaches to catch him, but Harry falls face flat with sprawled limbs almost bringing the tent down. He gazes up at Louis with wide eyes like a mis-stepped deer._

 _"_ _whoops!" he then starts the giggling, dimples lit up in red, blushed._

 

_Palming his face Louis starts laughing too "You fucking Bambi"_

 

 _"_ _Hey!!"_

 

_...._

 

**Present - Louis & Zayn**

 

"...t's funny?" Zayn mumbles trying to adjust his back without moving his bad leg, dragging Louis back to the damned warehouse and the cutting tight bounds.

Louis' absent smile fades... "Nothing."

Zayn takes a suppressed breath as he fails to find a more comfortable angle to sit without moving his ankle. Louis turns to Zayn.

Zayn looks pale... and weak. He seems to get weaker. Louis knew Zayn was in pain than he was letting out to be.

"You should've taken the pills Brad gave you". He says dryly. Zayn doesn't answer .

Louis presses his head back. His arms feel numb, being in the same position for a long time. His whole body is stiff and locked with occasional cramps. They only untied them when they randomly brought them food, bread or weak soups all the time. Louis could not imagine how hard it must be for Zayn, with his bad leg, not being able to move... and worse, with the pain. But at least they had each other to sit by... even though tied up like dogs.

He absently bumps his head backwards several times with closed eyes, feeling bitter. He could practically taste it in his tongue.

 "Louis..." Zayn tries after a while, as the thudding sound continues. But Louis doesn't feel like talking. "Tommo..."

"umm..." he doesn’t even feel like opening his eyes, so he does not. He keeps bumping his head backwards.

Zayn breaths lightly as if he is glad even to get a response "He'll be OK"

Louis keeps shut. Does Zayn really believe that? Doesn't he know that's all Louis wanted to believe? What would he not give at this moment to feel just that? To think that Harry would be fine... 

But the bloody look on Brad's face when he asked about Harry was the last blow to his fool's hope. Hope that them taking him away meant nothing... that he would be somewhere bound like them... breathing. There was a painful tug that keeps poking him in the gut, a thorn that keeps scraping him inside. It is an overwhelming fear that makes his thoughts go numb, flashing stuff and random incidents that had been buried deep inside him for a long time. Louis was sure he will soon lose it. Lose it if he doesn't see him... because right now he refused to acknowledge anything his frantic thoughts were suggesting. And his thoughts were screaming that he won't see him again... 

 "He'll be fine." Zayn mumbles again after sometime, his voice even less convincing than his face.

Louis bites his lip... "Sure"

 

He doesn't look at Zayn. He doesn't want him to see his welling eyes.

 

 

..................................................................................

 

 

**Harry**

 

"You sure you know how to stand on a stage boy?"

The man spats pulling him up by his hair as Harry's knees gives up for the second time. The harsh grip makes him hiss as the two men continues to drag him along the dirty passage with quick strides. 

"- can't seem to get his own legs to walk, eh? enjoying spreading them a bit too much?" They laugh. The grip wrapped around his bicep is dragging him forward too fast. With his weak limbs, Harry couldn't manage to keep up. But they seem to have no time to spare for his wounded body.

Harry shivers as they walk him back to the damned room... the dim lit, dirty room he hates so so much. He always seemed to shiver anyway now...  always cold. Never seem to get used to the steering cold in the freezing box... The stinging lashes from electric shocks still left him trembling and sobbing every time. He could never get used to any of it even if he tried. He screamed, cried, begged, howled - unable to find reason, fault - unable to fathom why he was there - unable to remember what or who he is... His body was aching all over - the soreness in every inch is almost making him numb.

How weak could a person be? Vulnerable and pathetic...

 

The two men leave him in the middle of the room to a waiting audience. He does his best to stand for whatever the reason - though his body just wanted to curl on the ground. He just wants to pass out... feel nothing. His mind is reeling, scaring him out of head while his body is screaming, tired out of wits, and bruises marking him inside out.  He does not mind even being cuffed if they are giving him some relief. His arm pits stings where needles had injected him with drugs that knocked him off to oblivion... where he had injected himself. _If only he could have a shot now..._

"Tsk Tsk" 

Someone clicks the tongue, straightening up in front of him. Harry could feel his eyes on him, unforgiving and smug... he looks down, unable to take the cold, cutting eyes in the ghostly smirking face. Harry sways on his feet, shivering, even more than before. He wants to curl down and squeeze his eyes shut until all of this disappeared... until the man in front of him disappeared.

Harry swallows as the figure steps near, his heart raising in flight instinct.

"Fresh out of the fridge, Harry?" Nickels Moth smooths, closing the space between - He stares at the boy. The dazed look in his green eyes wavers and his body stiffens. He avoids Nick's gaze as if he might break him if he looked up. How pretty... finally he had been able to break him down, hasn't he? That was not too hard. Not that hard at all.

Reaching with his hands, he dives his fingers in to the curls and feels the boy shiver, taking a startled step back. But Nick drags him back towards him by the head as a supressed groan makes it to a hiss, and it makes Nick want to laugh. Is he still trying to fight him?

"We are playing our little game again, Harry... the one that you so love?" Nick drags him closer close setting a warm hand on Harry's neck, running soft circles over the skin with his finger with a sly leer at him. It takes everything for Harry to not to shake the hand off, run and curl in to himself, away from this man. Away from everything.

Nick lifts the other hand to Harry's face, holding bits of folded papers in it. "You know what to do"

Nick tightens his grip on the neck and buries his face in the curls almost whispering, "-pick one for me like the good boy you are."

Harry struggles to tear away from the grip but Nick holds him to his place tight. "I've added some new names in it you know... so you have a better selection" His haunting warm breath touches Harry's ear, making him shiver. He tries to push the man uselessly. He had not strength left in his body any more. Not even to run away from his tormenter.

The delay seem to irritate Nick.

"Come on, boy" he says, next moment spinning him around and pressing Harry's back to him, to face the set of men who stood there, watching the encounter as if it is some kind of a show. "They are all loaded, Harry. You won't be disappointed. Pick a name and choose the one to have you next."

Harry just shivers looking at the smirking and gaping men within his sight, held up like a puppet in a stage.

"Nelson there has his best hopes up because he loves little sluts with long limbs and curly hair, you know" The men starts laughing as if it is some inside joke. One masculine baldhead, who Harry knows to be called _Nelson,_ smirks at him with a hungry stare.

Harry tries to struggle again but Nick does not budge, holding him to his body easily. Pulling a one arm around his shoulder, Nick brings his rolled paper chits up again.

"Pick a one, _Harry._.. your choice" he says as if telling a kid to choose between colours of candy.

Harry's breath hitches, looking at the men eyeing him like a show piece in an auction. _He is just have to pick a scrap of scrunched paper right?_ Why are his eyes tearing up for the inevitable? Why does he want to thrash and scream even he knows it's no use? Who is he trying to kid? himself? He knows how this is going to go...

"Pick the fuck up, cry baby!!" Nick screams in his ear - but Harry couldn't get his hand to move. "I said pick up!!" Nick pushes his head down with a grip on his hair. He seems to use it as a handle to manoeuvre him whenever,

"Select who you want up in your ass or I'll let them all in!!"

 Laughter fill the room. Still his grip on the messed curls, Nick circles the hand with chits in front of him with a raging glare. Ignoring his blurred vision, Harry picks a chit with shaking fingers, which Nick tears away from his hand. He reads the piece... then laughs, flicking the paper at Harry.

"Can't get enough of him, ain't it whore?" he says with a smirk.

He yanks Harry's face up, forcing him to look at him. Harry has no choice but to endure when Nick closes his cheek on his almost softly. His head starts to pound as he feels bile rise in his stomach. He wants to step back ... push away from Nick, but he doesn't feel too good with his balance.

 "Maddy had you the day before, Harry... I find this unfair the others." Nick says in a concerned voice behind his smirk. "I mean we can't have preferences now, can we?...tsk tsk" Nick shakes his head to a tune. "I'm a fair man, you know? Maybe we should try another round" He lifts the rolled papers again, staring at the drained teary green eyes. 

"Atta boy!" Nick blurts as Harry picks another with just a slight hesitation this time. It's no use... he knows. Soon he did what they wanted - sooner they will let him be, sooner he could just get back to his numbness, he thinks. Salty lines trickle down his cheeks nonetheless. His arms twitches for the needle. Soon - _he thinks_ \- soon, this will be over.

Nick unfolds the chit again with a fake seriousness as if he was spelling out results from some contest. He then holds it out to Harry...

His blurry vision catches some letters ... "Tony" scribbled on the crunched paper. His senses feels too fogged to reason the smirking face in front of him.

Nick laughs, almost cackling... he twirls around with it.

"We have the winner - Tony boy!!!" room fills with mocking laughs and cheers as a red headed man standing behind,  air punches. Harry's swaying thoughts begs them to leave him alone now... hadn't he done what Nick asked?

But Nick keeps laughing. "Better luck next time, Nelson" he says making back to Harry who eyes him emptily. He throws rest of the rolled bits at Harry and blows the ones that get stuck on his hair, wrapping his hands around his neck with care. He then wets his lips in a way which makes the green eyes look down.

"Ready to play, Harry?"

Harry's shortened breathes hitches as Nick steps closer and sweeps his hand over the jean clad thigh.

He can't... can't go through this. Not after the last time... He won't - he won't survive.

Harry takes shaky steps backwards only to be held from behind by two meaty hands he didn't  know were there. Panicked to the end of his wits he tries to struggle fruitlessly with iron grips holding him from behind. But they press him backwards and deadlocks him, making him yelp with the shock and pain as his unhealed skin grinds with the body behind.

He is weak... too weak even to move, let along fight.

Nick stares down at the struggling boy, "Feeling runny are we?" He smirks.

With darkening eyes Nick reaches for his shirt ... He could not stop the sobs or his hitching breaths, he begs to the unforgiving man in front of him, who just sneers. His knees struggle to keep him up as he tries to trash. "Please no... Please no. no .no..."

Nick seems to enjoy the pleading, whining and struggles as he continues running his hands underneath the shirt carefully, soothingly on the damaged skin. 

... but then suddenly a  phone vibrates loudly... Nick curses. He steps back taking out his phone as Harry sways struggling in the hold, vision less steady and too blurred with unwanted tears...

Nick scowls at his phone and grits his teeth. 

 

Heart thumping in a painful rate, Harry watches him, almost panting like an animal cornered in the hopeful pause... He wants to curl to himself and stop his chest fearfully screaming. But his thoughts were short lived as the man holding him, Tony, shakes him laughing, tightening his grip unnecessarily. He struggles as the man starts running his hands unmercifully over his body, crushing his tender parts and wounded muscles. Cries escapes him as pain scrapes his senses.

 "Oi!! don't fuckin break his bones" Nick says throwing his phone to the dirtying white sheets behind.

He glares at the man holding the boy. "I need him walking. Eric's popping in later. Gentle with the princess!"

 The man lifts the weakly struggling body to his feet, earning a hiss as he grips on the hair to turn him to face Nick. Harry pants, lips parted as if he was chocking on his breath. Nick smirks then, as he eyes the shuddering boy with bitten red trembling lips and fearful green eyes. Closing the distance between them, Nick runs his thumb softly at his face, smudging the tears on the cheeks… taking his time. His pleading eyes begs for mercy...

"Please no, plea-"

 "shhhhhh....shh" Nick coos covering Harry's mouth with his spider like hand, pressing him further to the man holding him from back. His other hand reaches up his thigh - and further up to his groin, gripping the boy through the thick material of clothing "shhhh"

The sobs become muffled as Nick bores in to teary, green eyes framed with long messy curls. He just stares, taking in the features.

Then he lets go. 

Nick's expression is serious as he looks back at his men.

 

"Who’s in for a show?"

  

...............................................................................................................

 

**Louis & Zayn**

 

When the ridicules, pale man with haunty face steps down the stairs, closely followed by another bulky man leading Harry with him, Louis’ shuddering heart almost leaps out of his chest.

He is a live… he is. _His Harry is a live..._

 

But seeing him, he doesn't know if he is to feel relieved, scream or to cry.

The glimpses he gets of Harry's hair draped face as the man handle his weight down the steps is nothing Louis could read. Harry lets the man drag,carry him down though, with an arm under his waist - while the smug faced, pale man helps him, gently supporting him with a hand around his waist, as if he knew where it hurt exactly. Is this man really helping?... despite of his mocking smug expression?

Louis' breath hitches as the man leads towards them, seeing him up close.

His beautiful boy who had a devilish smile and eyes that one time boxed both morning cuddles and lustful  dreams for him. The impossible dork who could cheek himself out of anything with his quirky, handsome face ... the boy with tempting curls and charisma to overpower all of them, his own heart breaker with sweet dimples and green, hearty eyes.

... Only that none of it was there.

Harry looks like as if he had been hit by a truck.

His body sways like he absolutely had no grip. His arms looked boneless, fallen to sides, and his legs barely supporting his weight. His pale, sweaty skin seemed so bruised and marked, despite the over-sized long, sleeved shirt he had on (wasn't he wearing something different?) or the messy and greasy locks covering most of his face. Eyes weary and inflated as if he had been awake for years with no sleep.  Bluish skin around his left eye looks slightly swollen same as his bruised lips. 

Louis' eyes tears up, looking at him. He presses his head back wanting to banging it until his thoughts settled...

He wants to reach out and take away the boy from the hands of these men... only he couldn't.

Despite all, Harry's face just looks numb, his expression drained and distracted as if he does not really care if he was in front of Louis or Zayn. Is he drugged like the last time?

True he looks almost oblivious but he seemed far too concentrated on his footing to be drugged and he was breathing far too carefully if it hurts him to do that.. Louis let his tears fall helplessly looking at the marks in his pale revealed skin.

 

"How the clan is waiting, aren’t we excited?" The pale man sings, leaving the other man to help the weary body.

 

"...the hell have you done with him??!!" Zayn murmurs this time, his voice heavy and strained with fear.

 

"He asked me to take 'im to my slumber party," the man says with a smirk, turning and grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him towards him. The other man easily lets go as the pale man rounds the weary boy to face him - so his back is to the two bound boys who are glaring at him. "So I did"

The usually loud one seemed to have lost his words this time, eyes wide on Harry's back as Nick not so accidently nudges the fabric up, revealing his handiwork on his skin.

Harry hisses and leans on his only support while Nick hugs him to his shoulder in a caring manner. "Shhhhh... shhhhhh" Nick holds him to his body as Harry's tries to push a way with a distressed hiss.  Nick presses him in tighter, looking at the other two boys who looks stunned.

 

"You are going to pay for this!!! you sick-" the dark haired boy... Malik cries. The other one visibly stiffens, eyes gone wide in horror. He pants on his breath looking at Nick in a death glare. If looks could kill, Nick was sure he would have been dead by now... how interesting to be this brave when they should be scared seeing what he had done to their little friend. What friendship... what love? He laughs pulling the boy away from him, leaving him by himself. 

"Enjoy the time, Harry. I'll see you later."

He nudges Harry's swaying body towards the bound boys and weak in his feet, Harry simply falls in middle of them with a hiss of pain as his wounded body hits the floor, despite the cries and yelps of the other two.  He just curls to himself as Nick approaches again.

"NO, Get away from him!!!"  feathery haired one screams struggling harshly in his binds. Nick just stares at him, turning his neck as if he was trying to calculate his anger. But then ignores him touching Harry's messy haired head with his booted foot.

"No funny business, OK, love? You know the drill. Don't try anything stupid"

Harry just turns his head to the floor rapping himself in tighter.

Nick then leaves with a wink to the angry struggling boy as the other one just glares. The other man follows him.

 

"Keep an eye on' em. He's loose" Nick shouts to group of his goons in the other corner who seemed to meddle with partitioning the hall.

Louis and Zayn could not care less about the exchange nor the partition. Eyes running and heart thumping at an unbearable rate Louis tries his best not to break down as he tries to speak gently,

"Harry please talk to me... Haz please."

Zayn could only shake his tears away, fear and concern choking him in his own breath.

"Harry, love _plea-se_..." Louis' voice cracks, but he tries to control himself because he has to get Harry to him. He could reach Harry with his feet but Louis would not risk hurting him. If he could only get him to push himself near Louis a bit...

But despite of his unbound form and drug free sense, Harry doesn't move... at least not for a long time. He just lets his prone body stay curled, listening to Louis' shaking voice, almost feeling distant from himself. It calms him slightly in spite of the continuous shiver runs through his body.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the very first part didn't feel silly. Its my first time writing fluff and hope I got it ok. Sorry about the angst... there will be more coming like that though. Planning a bit of x rated things in next one so if you are underage, this is not your place.


	9. An Unexpected Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Zayn notices effects of what Harry may have been subjected to. But could they even guess the extents of it? An unexpected visitor causes an unexpected departure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!! ... This chapter was supposed to be finished a week ago in the light of Zayn's departure it really dragged. But it's done now so here it is. As you guessed, the title for this chapter is with thoughts of Zayn.
> 
> Warning – bit of violence and heaps of angst. Sorry about that

 

 

**9\. An Unexpected Departure**

 

It is the sound of a suppressed, dry heave that wakes Louis up.

Somewhere in between his attempts to get free from his bounds and trying to get Harry to at least move from his curled spot, Louis had given in to exhaustion. He had just given in to his pathetic bound form and stinging eyes because there was nothing he could do. Harry was here right in front of him, obviously in pain, curled up and weak... but Louis was unable to even reach him.

He had been dozing off... maybe he fell asleep for moments. Zayn too, who with his wounded leg and watching the extremes of Harry in this state,  had felt numb to process anymore.

So neither of them hears Harry in the beginning… 

 

They do not hear the increasing whimpering nor agitated ramblings which Harry subconsciously tries to hide as much as he could... as in a habit he developed when he was in reach of Nick and his goons. But with time, it becomes impossible for him to do so as his stomach burns inside and his body starts to convulse with building cramps. He feels sicker every passing moment, shivering with a cold which seems to only hit him as his teeth clutters to a none existing cold.

But it is his occasional dry heaves that shakes both the other boys to attention.

 

"Harry?"

Zayn calls first, trying to figure out the sound. Harry goes silent, but just for a bit, unable to contain it anymore. Hushed whimpers erupt again form his loosely curled form. One of his hands clutching the back of his neck as he lets out ragged breaths and something similar to sniffs.  Fear and worry hits Louis in new levels as he stares at the shivering form in front of him now. He momentarily looks to Zayn, who in the dim light looks back at him with a reflective fear.

"Harry?"

Harry does not respond to them, but tries to hold himself up slightly as he tries not to heave. Even the back turned to him, Louis could see him tremble. His whimpers between controlled, dry retches kept increasing.

"Harry... what's wrong? ... Harold?" He tries desperately, but Harry only lets out feeble sounds. He clutches his belly and lowers himself to the floor again. Whatever he is going through seemed to be increasing gradually. "Please tell me what's wrong... Harry?"

 Louis feels his eyes moisture again. His insides shakes with fear as Harry continues panting. It is clear that Harry is in some kind of a building pain.

Have they poisoned him? or is he injured inside?

In the next instinct his fear doubles and panic rises to throat as Harry coughs as if dangerously close to throwing up. He then rolls to his back, still clutching his belly and shivers with painful sobs. It makes Louis lose it... throwing him right down from the edge.

He shouts for help... loud as he could manage with his shaking voice.

He screams out throwing his pride away, to someone... anyone to help the heaving boy. Zayn joins him.

 

It's only several minutes later that two men lazily drags themselves from the other corner, eying them almost irritated.

"- the fuck are you shouting, boy?" They call out before reaching them, but silences when they see the curled up, wheezing Harry.

"Shit! Get Nicky!" One with scruffy bread says as Harry doubles down starting to heave again. One guy grabs his phone out and starts dialling. Louis and Zayn watches, their hearts thumping in a dangerous rate, as the man speaks in a muffles tone to the phone, walking away from them and a trembling Harry.

"What is wrong with him??!!!"

Louis demands, shock flaming through his tears as the other two guys just stare at the shivering and wimping boy on the floor.

"What the fuck have you done to him??!!!"

Louis struggles in his bounds feeling the wires cut in to his skin... but he couldn't care less. He trashes more. Zayn stays still with a dread and a inkling in his eyes. He just keeps his eyes fixed at Harry's shuddering form his head pressed back though, letting tears run down his face freely.

 

The guy with the phone returns and whistles at the bearded guy, throwing him something to catch.

 _Is ... is that a syringe??_ Louis feels his head go cold.

The bearded man makes a face catching it as the other reaches the panting boy.

"What the fuck are you doing??!!!"

Louis trashes again as the man drag Harry to sit, forcing his arm straight. He holds it open, dragging the shirt sleeve up. Harry simply whimpers, but does not struggle ... just lets him be handled with heavy breaths, as if he almost anticipates it. Louis nearly gasps as he looks at the revealed hand, marked with bruises and reddened spots all over the inner side. Black and blue colours, clashes sickeningly, staining his once flawless skin.

The man with the scruff places the syringe on a clear vein in Harry's arm.

"No... No...What are you doing?! Leave him alone!" Louis struggles desperately.

Despite the protests, the man pushes the content in... Harry just whimpers, still shivering, his face dangerously pale and sweaty. The thugs just watch him then, as if they are just waiting to magically bounce back from an illness. 

It takes moment, but Harry's breathing becomes longer and wimping lower. It is an awkward pause, with heavy breaths and panting. One of the men huffs a grin as the other pats the boy's pale cheek a bit too roughly.

"Wakey wakey, kid... good as new now... come on." Harry whimpers lightly with an uncoordinated struggling. Straightening him, the man starts pulling Harry up by his hair...

 "It'll take a minute, he'll come around." the other one says getting up.  Harry breaths, as if it is hard to do just that.

 "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU INJECT HIM WITH??!" Louis shouts, kicking his legs at the one holding Harry as he starts rolling him to side. "LET HIM BE, YOU BASTARD!"

"You wanna shot as well, boy?" The men laugh. The one holding Harry up shakes him in his knelt form by the grip on his hair, right in front of Louis. His body shakes almost as lifeless, hands dangling uselessly to sides. It makes Louis go sick to his stomach, making him struggle more. "Got some nice china cats mewling... wanna try some?.. it'll shut your mouth and put you to sleep like this one"

The men laugh again as Harry begins to look slightly dazed... he fixes eyes with Louis' tearing ones and breaths, dragging on his breaths. _Please don't pass out again ... please..._ Louis thinks, pressing himself hard against the column at back, eyes fixed at the foggy greens in front of him.

The man lets Harry down then, to sit on his heels.

They just walk back with scoffs and laughs as Harry, in his seated form, continues to breathe almost normally but sleepily.  Despite his roughened up appearance, he looks almost fine... . Louis could just stare at the boy in front of him, unable to slow his own staggering breaths.

Harry exhales long and hard - as if he is suddenly relaxed just where he is. Head bent, shoulders slumped, he runs his fingers lightly on the floor... dragging them near Louis' leg. Louis could just stare...

What the hell just happened? What the hell have they done to him? He ignores Zayn’s continued sniffs in the background and watches Harry as he sweeps his hand slowly and almost awkwardly on to the hem of Louis Jean. "Harry?"

Harry continues running his hand over the fabric making Louis almost lose it again. His long curls, now greasy and messy, covers half of his face ... hiding whatever is clear in the dim light that Louis could possibly see.

"Harry... please."

"I'm O-K." the mumble slurs even more than usual. Louis's eyes tear up again, more out of fear than anything else. 

"Then come to me... if you are OK." he says softly as he could, fighting over the urge to thrash. "Please..."

Something like an awkward smile lines on Harry's face. "I'm a bit drowsy...I-"

"That's OK... love please... I'll let you sleep, OK? ju- just ... push yourself to me... plea-se. I ... I can't co-me to you."

A moment passes with Harry just lightly touching the fabric...

"Why not?" He sounds like a child, mumbling as he picks on the material. Louis lets his tears fall free, once again. 

From where he's bound, Zayn shakes his head. _No... no this is not happening_. He won't let it. Of course he knew what was happening. He knew the symptoms. He could recognize withdrawal pains when he sees because he had been there ... couple of times. _How long have they been drugging him? And with what?_ The panting, shivering and heaving before and the way he is drowsily and looking better now....- No no, this is not happening... it's not...

"GET IT FUCKING TOGETHER, HARRY!!" Zayn cries then his sniffs dangerously close to sobs. "Please..." he adds.

"Don't shout at him!"

"He's fucking high, can't you see!!!"

Louis sniffs, looking from Zayn to Harry's slumped form with wide, tearing eyes. "IT'S NOT HIS FAUL-"

"THEY ARE DRUGGING HIM OUT OF BRAINS!!! HE'S LOSING IT!!"

"NOT HIS FAUL-T!!!"

 

Louis gasps in the middle as Harry slowly starts dragging him towards him, swaying as he did. Zayn also looks at him with reddened eyes and a runny nose. Pushing himself forward, on his fours Harry half crawls and half drags his weight before sitting down next to Louis.

He lethargically lowers his head to Louis thigh then and curls in to himself again, making Louis' heart skip. 

 _"D_ _on't shout"_ Harry mumbles as if he thought they were screaming because he didn't do as they asked... as if they were mad at him for it. He sounds as if in a complete different mind set...

Louis breath hitches with an overwhelming heaviness as the weight rests on him.

He wants nothing but to take him to his arms, press his body to his chest and bury his own face in Harry's ruined messy curls. But he can't... he can't.

With pushed back tears Louis watches him. Harry’s eyes were closed already as if he seriously craved nothing more than sleep. The light is too dim for him to see anything properly, but Louis could make out the bruises all over the revealed skin...  He had seen the Harry's back earlier, gashes and sore marks. His insides cringes at the memory and shock still fresh. Harry must be in so much pain... so much pain. What had they done to him? And why? _Why him? Why had they not taken Zayn or him?_  

Harry shivers slightly in his peaceful form... he seems serene, even calm.  But all the same, he looks utterly ill... as if he had been milked dry. Looking at him, Louis feels suffocated... literary.  His head feels heavy and voided at the same time. He feels strangely useless because he actually was at the moment. Powerless and utterly useless.

"What am I suppose to _do_ , Zayn?" Louis asks, his voice cracking and throat burning. He pressures his bound hands feeling the torn skin beneath. "I don't know what to do ..." Line of fresh tears trickles down his face for what seemed like the millionth time. "Tell me what to do..."

Louis bumps his head back slightly, feeling the solid column behind.

 

......................................................................................

 

 

 

"Why isn't anyone coming to get us out?" 

 

Louis's voice rings up in the silence. Zayn doesn't know how long they had been silent. 

Zayn just shakes his head, feeling it spin again. He doesn't really look at Louis, nor Harry, whose asleep.

 _Is anyone going to come for them at all?_ He doesn't say it loud. But he couldn't help wondering... _Does anyone know that they are alive?_

Is it even worth hoping someone would come?

"Isn't is long enough for someone to find us?" Louis blabbers again. He sounds worn out, drained.

He gazes emptily at Louis. In their years together he had not ever seen that kind of a defeated expression on Louis. It is the last thing he wanted to see.  Zayn then looks at Harry who seems warm and comfortable for once in his dazed mind, snuggled in to his onetime love.

Despite of his long limbs and taller structure he looks like a kid in his curled body, bringing memories from their early years when Harry had the habit of snuggling in to Louis whenever he had the chance, in couches, their travel buses and bunks... falling asleep on him with matter of minutes.

In another place and another time, seeing two of them like this again would have brought a little smugness and a smile to his face. Because he always... always knew there were so much unsaid, so much left hanging between them even with everything that happned.

But here, now... seeing them like this made everything even worse.

 

 

 ..............................................................................................................

 

 

 

 

 

Hours later when the dim hall suddenly strikes with a blinding white light, Louis hisses with complete loss of sight. He hears an irritated groan from the Bradford boy in his side as well. They have not noticed the door up the stairs open or several men stepping in, lost in exhaustion and thoughts again.

Harry slowly moves, burying his messy haired head deeper in Louis' thigh as if to hide from the light. 

Four men stroll towards them in a bit of haste, Including the gruesome guy, Nick and a new one in a trench coat. Two thugs from moments before trails behind them looking like some over-sized minders. 

Lights on, Nick's cold eyes immediately goes to the curled form of Harry from afar, who has his head snuggled in to Louis... and then to Louis' face whose still struggling with the sudden blinding light. Nick holds his searching eyes to the sight for a moment.

Blinking his eyes, Louis tries to grasp his vision. Are they here for Harry again? to take him away, for days... his fear boils like lava inside him. He won't let them take him... he says to himself as Harry curls tighter in to him hearing the nearing steps. Louis could practically feel him cringing.

_He won't... won't let them take him. Not this time..._

 

The group of men stop in front of them and the trench coat's glass framed stoic eyes travels to Harry immediately before he turns to Nick. 

"Why are they in the dark? Told you to look to their needs." says the man with a trench coat as Louis still tries to get his eyes adjusted. 

"I'll book them in to a suite with bubble baths and French wine tomorrow,  Nick says dryly, "- you've seen their pretty faces, mind spilling what is it you want?" his eyes keeps flickering to Louis and Harry as he lights up a cigar.

Eric Stereopsis stares as Nick takes several long drags casually, his face almost uninterested. But his eyes, flickering impatience says different. Clenching his jaw, he shoots a cold stare at Nick. Biting his words bac, he steps forward, looking at the three boys. One look at the curled up boy, Eric knows Nick had crossed too much boundaries. He could see the bruises, even from there. His two band members seems unscathed comparing, despite  the black haired one, Malik, who is pale. He looks as if in pain for some reason. But he looks much better in shape than Styles, who in his prone form looks almost destroyed. _No wonder Brad got all worked to mess it up._

What an actual idiot had he been to think that he had any control over Nicky... He had warned him to not to get carried on. But it seemed Nick had done just that with the kid. Eric calculatingly eyes the other two boys for a moment as they stare back at him with roastingly.

 

"What d' you want, Eric?" Nick stresses, quite out of patience for the intrusion.

The boy's still breathing, yeah? He's ninety percent sure this is on Brad, who had pried beyond what he had to do. The bloody rat had surely chanted something to Eric's ear. And what? Eric suddenly drops in as if he wanted to inspect it, as if he needs to keep an eye on everything? 

Things are totally under control isn't it? He has it all under control. It's all going to the plan, minus the additional presence of the two flashy scums. And of course the petty stunt Brad had tried to pull off... as if he didn't know it will backfire. Had Eric bloody come to tell him to lay off the shiny little prick? Nick almost laughs inside.

 

Crossing his arms over the chest, Eric sighs.  "I'm gonna return one of them back."

Nick makes a face. Both Louis and Zayn, who had now regained their visions, stare at the man wide eyed.

 

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Nick spats.

 Eric sweeps his hands in to his expensive trouser pockets. He eyes Nick patiently.

"They want a guarantee they are alive and _unharmed_ or they won't yield" he stresses on the word _unharmed,_ eyeing the curled up boy and looks back at Nick.

 "They haven't fucking complied to anything yet... get them in a phone call. Let them talk with the little fuckers. I'll make'em say they are fine!"

"That's not how I'm handling this Nicky. They need a little something they can't refuse and it'll make them comply. I won't have them back off because we haven't kept to our side of the bargain!" Eric glares at Nick who looks back at him acidly.

 

Noticing every word and gesture of the exchange, Louis could clearly see some tension there. Eric person seemed pissed yet he is clearly controlling his each word as if he did not want to reel things up. Are they really going to release one of them? Is there any possibility that Louis could push Harry out of here? Is there at least a chance? He turns to Zayn who returns his gaze. Zayn's pale face nods slightly and Louis knows he is thinking the same thing.

 

"You mean you can't get them to comply without owning to their shit." Nick spats with a sarcastic hiss.

Eric's stare does not weaver, nor does his calm. "I prefer to keep a foot in white-collar, Nicky. If one of them can push this deal to the next step, that's exactly what it's going to be. And _this_ will go as I decide how it goes... whatever your stand is."

Eric stares at the cold face with a hard but calm expression, flickering his gaze at the two goons who stood behind. 

Nick just sneers. "Fine... choose your beauty. You have two sticks to choose from."

 

Erics eyes darts between the bound boys, from Malik to the Tomlinson and _Styles_ curled in to him. Unlike Malik who looks down, the blue eyed boy looks at him directly... almost as if he saw a light behind Eric's head. His cold gaze moments before turned in to something of hopeful and expectant. He bites his lip and presses his head back looking at him unblinkingly. Eager to get out it seems. Could Eric blame him? must have been hard enough to be out of their luxury, pampered bubble, to this.

But there is a mix of defiance behind his blue eyes, Eric notices, a look of fire and ice at the same time.

"Send him back." the boy mumbles then as Malik too fixes his gaze at him, "Send Harry back". He says the second time much audibly looking almost desperate as same as Malik.

Eric just eyes them blankly.

A cackle of a smug laugh goes from his back. Nick steps up and puts his arm on Eric's shoulder with an almost raised eye brows.

A unexpected one... ha haha."  he laughs,  foul eyes focused on Louis who still has eyes fixed on Eric's blank stare. Louis does not spare even a turn to the smug faced man. Eric does not react, not to Louis nor to Nick.

"Such a big heart to save him before your ass..." Nick spats again voice turning fouler. He takes out the cigar from his lips and taps on it carefully. Ash drops in front of him like dust. He eyes Louis mockingly. "Generous aren't we? Fitting for the Nobel fucking prize!! What? you think he's too soft for our hospitality, boy? What if yo-"

"If you are sending one of us, send Harry back!"

Louis spits in a similar manner, louder this time, his eyes unmoving from Eric as if determined to ignore any presence of the cackling man and his irking tone.

Nick scoffs, clearly unimpressed,... he steps forward, passing Eric with menacing eyes at Louis. He lines a mocking smirk looking at Harry who lay curled, cowering with his back to him... and then eyes the blue eyed boy with a dagger shooting glare. He huffs, taking a long drag from the cigarette between his lips. 

 "Right a champ aren’t you? A little too noisy for your own good?" taking another drag, he flips the cigar out at Zayn, who barely manages not to get hit with the burning stick. 

"Want to save the day for the little hoe?"

 Behind Nick, Eric phases, irritated. 

"I don't have time for this" he calls impatiently, irritated.

Nick ignores him and lowers on his heels next to the curled up body facing Louis.  "Don't you think it's your chance to return to your little bachelor pad in Neverland, boy?"

He smirks with his cold blue eyes to the cutting blues in front of him which reflects his expression in a way, bringing his hand to Harry's messy curls, making him flinch. He starts running his fingers through them, looking daringly at Louis.  Harry makes a soft pained sound, curling in to him tighter.

 _Little whelp is awake then_...

Nick leans closer to Louis, clutching a handful of curly hair to his fist. Harry turns his face further, pressing down to Louis' lap, trembling as Nick grips and pulls on brown curls.

"Worried we've been a little rough on your little boy here?" Nick smiles cruelly, his white teeth visible and the blue eyes glistening. His voice goes low as he speaks, unblinking like a dead man. "Don't be, he loved it through and through. Should have seen the way he squealed and snivelled like a little bitch when I marked him up... tight little whore... some piece of work he is."

Releasing the chunk of hair Nick runs his hand down Harry's neck and Harry shivers without any other movement. His breathing in a racing rate, almost as if is panting. Louis just stares with clenched jaws at the vile man, just inches away from them, his insides, rising red. He drags at his bound wrists to stop him from blindly thrashing.

 

"Nicky" Eric calls warningly as the two pairs of blue eyes hold the glares.

Nick loosens his expression then and takes back his hand, grinning as if it is all a joke. Louis just continues his stare with fire in his eyes.

"Take him..." Nick says, simply getting up and walking to Eric "He's the least scathed anyway"

" **No..."**

Louis spats hotly. His insides burning, tearing flesh apart. He won't... he won't leave him...he can't ... not Harry...not to this... neither Zayn. He pulls at his binds and growls.

"When do you need' I'm?" Nick asks Eric, ignoring the protesting boy.

"Now... I'm on schedule. It's a long drive." he says discreetly.

Nick looks at his two goons. "Get him ready. Don't want bloody misses this time. Pump him enough!"

  **"** **I SAID NO!!"** Louis cries, thrashing as one of the thugs bends to un-cuff him.

The other man pushes Harry to aside, which he easily complies with no protests. Louis thrashes more, looking at Eric who clearly had some authority over the albino trash bag  "No!! No!!... Send either of them or I'll-..'

Louis doesn't finish as Nick rashly moves towards him pushing his goon away, dragging Louis up by his shirt in his sitting form. His bounds cut in to skin painfully.

"Or you'll what, rich boy? What are you gonna do? Eat your dollar bills and burn your wardrobe? Fucking little bitch?!!!"

He shakes Louis by the collar with cold menace eyes and a hostile smirk.

I'm going to pump you up and send you wrapped with a ribbon around your neck and I'm going to make both of your little friends scream until they can't even remember their fucking names. You won’t be able to do anything about it. Do you understand?!!"

He glares searching for the blinks of fear in the face.

But Louis just stares back feeling his insides reel up even more. He would not let this maniac get to him... and he won't leave them here, not if he could help it. He grits his teeth and glares matching the eyes in front of him.

" _Send me, and I will bloody tell everyone you've been torturing the hell out of us!!_ whatever you are fucking planning, I'll make sure to send it to bloody garbage. I fucking don't care!!"

 _"_ _Louis"_ Zayn mumbles, edgily, fearful for his mate, but Louis keeps his stare at the mad man.

Nick drags Louis further to his eye limit, face livid and threatening, "You think what you say will matter to any of us, boy? You want to  be smart with me? with the useless little hole you call your mouth? I will choke your-"

"I'll bloody tell them that the other two are dead if you send me without them! I won't give a motherfuck!!! See where your plans go then!!?"

Nick drops the boy and smacks him across the face, making neck almost break. Louis gasps pain tearing his eyes. He feels wetness trickling down his nose. He hears Zayn's voice beside him and senses Harry curling in to him tighter with a distressed whimper... but he does not get time to wallow in it as he gasps again as his head yanks up by hair with a force. Nick's cold, glassy eyes bores in to him as in a horrific nightmare.

"You wanna play smart rich filth? You think you-"

"Enough of this!! I bloody don't have time for fucking drama, _Nickels_!!!"

Eric says his voice louder and angrier, contrasting to what it had been until then, "Get me that one, I don't want any trouble and I fucking don't have time to play control games wasting my fucking time!"

He directs the two thugs to Zayn who looks at Nick for a cue.

"His bloody leg is cracked! He can't walk!" Nick says, eyes still tight at Louis, as same as his grip on his hair.

"He doesn't need to. He can tell them it's an accident while he was pulled in to the vehicle... he'll do!"

 

With a angry huff Nick lets go of the grip on the clump of brown hair. He eyes Louis intensely, "As you wish then."

He smirks and turns to his goons and gestures, fire still in his eyes. Louis finds him trying to catch his breath with the pain still stinging him. Nick sits close to Zayn with madness still in his eyes.

 "If you want to see either of your little friends again, better get your bosses to work it, boy..." he says to Zayn who just stares at him without a word.

"Tell them they are safe and sound and it will last only for four more days for them to see to the demands. If you happen to mess it up...," He smirks maliciously "I will be more than glad to give them what they need to keep their pretty asses grounded, do you get it?" Nick growls sitting next to Zayn who tries his best not to make a sound as Nick pats at his broken leg.

"Do you understand?' Nick asks, stocking his neck. Zayn just nods slightly, eyeing Louis behind the maniac, his eyes hard.

Louis looks at Zayn's pain hidden hard face, trying his best to look brave.

He's not going to leave Harry here like this. It's not even a question. But it is a nudge of a feeling that shakes him. Zayn has been here with him until now... as he had been there with him since the beginning of their lives in limelight, picking his ups and downs, filling his spaces... getting him up when he didn't know how to.  He had been with him through this whole ordeal... the only sort of comfort he had. And he is going to lose it now. Louis looks to his right at the Harry who is laying with his back to him now. He could not see his face anymore, just the curled back which revealed angry marks in the places where the loose shirt is lifted. At least his breathing seems normal now. Louis takes it as a good sign, hoping to god that Harry won't get hit with another seizure or something again.

Louis turns to Zayn again as the thugs closes up on him, mercilessly stinging with a syringe at neck. Zayn just gasps slightly though, his eyes fixed on Louis. Louis tries to smile but the Bradford boy goes slack in front of his eyes. There were no words exchanged... no fist bumps and no hugs as they did in their usual departures. No good byes… no nothing. It is a too sudden wipe off. They had been there, sitting side by side for god knows how long. Louis had almost snapped at him with irritation and Zayn had not minded as he always never had, despite the pain with his broken leg.

But now suddenly Louis would be alone. There would be no one for him to rely on. No one to exchange eye contact.

But they would see each other again...  he knew they would. They have to...

 

Louis, with clamped, cringing thoughts, watches as the two men un-cuff Zayn from his bounds and drag him behind Eric, his legs trailing on the floor. Louis is hundred times glad Zayn was unconscious to not to feel any of it.

Nick leaves last, with a cold stare at Louis, who just looks away. He's too drained to feel anything anymore. He fruitlessly tries to wipe his bleeding nose with his collar but gives up, squeezing his eyes shut and tries to calm himself up.

 

It all depended on Zayn now. He thinks, pressing his head back, ignoring its dull throbing.  Zayn has to do whatever it takes. He has to...

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the Zayn part in the end...if I made you feel more upset. But that’s what happened when I tried to write it with this mess. Ironically I had always planned it like that- for Zayn to be the one to be released…   
>  I am actually a recent fan but I had my share of fav. bands and them falling down in the past. In my opinion, more than their music it was their friendship and combination that got them where they are. So it's sad to see things get messy. Personally Harry and Zayn had always been my fav.s out of five in the context. Also I have had this story planned for a 3rd part as well but I'm not really sure about it now. But we'll see how that goes. 
> 
> Hugs if I made you feel bad! Really sorry!
> 
> Please tell me your thoughts and comments as always.


	10. Tha Call In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Paul's revelations about the demands of the kidnappers and the shady leads of the investigation, Liam and Niall tries to swallow the tough pill of waiting. Gemma regrets not probing his brother more to open up to her about his break up some years ago. Meanwhile Alex, the special agent for the investigations receives a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well comparatively this is a shorter chapter. But the break here is needed as the next two are going to be longer. Hope everyone is holding up fine. Oh and I actually decided to do posters for each chapter so will see how that goes...  
> No warnings.

 

 

 

**10\. A Call In**

 

 

  
  
"He never told me any of this."

With a sniff, Gemma smudges off her reddened eyes. Her tear struck face is slightly puffy. She sat curled on the cushioned chair, still with the same cloths she arrived with. She must be exhausted after long hours of flying. Leaning forward with his arms on his knees, Liam slightly nods and spares a sideways glance at Niall.

Niall, slumped back in his chair, continues picking at his nails. He hadn't uttered a word since they sat here...  lost in his own thoughts. After listening to Paul’s little revelations, could he really blame him?

Liam too feels more distracted than ever... but him being moody would only make everyone suspicious and go more berserk. With everything crazy going around, he was sure that he won’t be able to handle that. It is easier to pretend than being subjected to questions and curious stares.

Liam forces himself to speak almost in autopilot.

  
"-Neither us... not even a hint" He sighs trying to find words.

"The whole thing just blew up. Otherwise we...we wouldn't have had a clue actually." He says, hoping Gemma would not really read his floating, troubled thoughts out of his face. There are enough edgy things around to mask his concerns with.

  
Huddled in a corner of the now empty lobby, Liam had revealed the stuff happened since the media blow up to the kidnapped to Gemma, ignoring the pounding in his mind. Gemma listened with concerned eyes while Liam told her about Harry's break down, Modest's possible influence over the break up and the fight that he must have gotten in with Louis over it, which might have caused Louis (and Zayn) following Harry in the end of the last show. Niall had only flickered his eyes in Liam’s direction time to time when he intentionally skipped some parts out. Modest's contract, security interference and planned media mob would only needlessly set things up at this point and the last thing they want now was Harry's family lashing at the management for the contract he was supposed to keep out of the way.

Was it wrong that Liam did not want to mention it all to Gemma? The mare influence the management had poured over sounds bad enough even without the legal issues and contracts. And of course Liam had kept the bombs Paul and the investigation guy, Alex had dropped on them back as well. About the mess with Brad, pub singer suicide, the demands they have made for Modest and the extents of it all...

He had kept them out because he was not sure if it was his place to reveal any of it.  Suicides, shootings and the bloody set up of Harry's media blow up... gosh he was still trying to process all of it. It was too much... too much. And amid everything the very gravity of the situation was making Liam's head steam inside humming worry like a sound he could not get rid of. 

Would Modest really lose half of their investments to get the three out?

Would they really do that? Considering that even now they were just dragging everything, keeping them in the dark, would they be generous enough to bring the boys out of this? He was almost fidgeting in his skin for the three.

What if the missing boys' siblings got to know that the Modest was holding actions intentionally because they think they have time?

Do they really have time?

Yes, Paul had mentioned they have given two weeks’ notice, with only couple of days left from it now... But they had shot Brad out of cold blood...Killed him out of nowhere for trying to reach Paul?

Brad had betrayed them, yes... had caused all of this possibly. But it didn’t mean the shock was any easy to swallow… the guy had been in their team from the beginning... had been running around setting decoys for them, covering up and fighting paps for them. Damn Bard had even dropped Soph for him when he had been busy and had come to his family home with him couple of times... and now he had been shot and thrown away with no traces of his existence?

What is even happening? Who are these people?

Are they going to trust them to their bloody word? Are they going to trust the lives of Harry, Louis and Zayn with whatever they had cooed in a phone call?

Liam buried his head in his hands and listen to Gemma's mumbles almost not hearing any of it... His head was all over...

  
"...kept silent about the whole Louis thing... just - I thought he wanted not to wallow on it. Their thing was too stressful for both of them in the end and I thought he ... he ... Gosh! Why didn't I... I knew he was so unhappy about it - but - but he won't talk about it-," Gemma wiped off a fresh line of tears. "Grimy and Lou both kept telling me he needed help but he won't have any of it... he ... never talked about it. Even when Mom hinted that she is there for him if he needs to talk... he just shrugged it away. I could have asked him... I...-"

"He wouldn't have said anything Gem... he just pretended that he was getting close to Nick that time and I'm sure he did it to set us up in away... to make sure we stood by Tommo." Liam says running his fingers through his hair, trying to focus on the stressful time of Harry and Louis' break up. How they had thought it was the toughest time in their band career then... "He just wanted us to keep away from the decision he made, I'm sure now..."

"But what made him do such a thing then, Liam? How on earth did they manage to get him to break it off if he didn't want to? He won't have just given up like that... I know him. Something might have happened. Something that made him to break off like that." Gemma says through tears and Liam does not know what to say.

He knew that Gemma knew about the Douglas incident and Liam did not really know what went after to Harry to be the one to break it off, not Louis. He doubted if any of them really knew...

Gemma sniffs again. "I was going to call him after the show because he …he was so off... he was in tears… I could tell. He didn’t tell me but he was. I could hear him... He just begged me to come with him on the tour and I didn’t know what to do. Now all of a sudden this.... I don't... I don't... know how to …. and that bitch, Paige or whatever she is had the nerve to call me to my work number, you know? asking if he's in ICU... they kept calling me... people, Harry's friends ... asking his condition... and I don't know what to sa-y...and I don’t know what to think…" Gemma tries to control her sniffs but fails with her running tears.

Liam and Niall could just watch feeling distraught as Gemma buries her face in her hands and starts to cry openly.

Liam reaches for her knee, squeezing it wanting her to just let it out. He knew she had been holding it in, putting up a strong face for Anne's sake. Of course they knew how hard it is to lie to the concerned friends... especially to the close ones who Zayn, Harry and Louis considered family. Liam had lied to Stan, Grimmy, Jeff and a whole lot of people… telling them all sorts of rubbish over and over, reading a set of injuries out of a list a hospital staff member had handed over to them in a meeting… Telling them hospital does not allow visits in severe conditions when they asked to drop in.

He had lied outright. They both had. It is the worst kind of feeling when you feel the guilt eating you up... But they were both sure it was nothing compared to what Gemma and the other family members must be going through, having to lie about them being injured while in truth you don't have a bloody clue where they are or what condition they must be in. Biting his lip Liam looks at Niall who just glances back, locking his gaze to Liam without turning away for the first time since the hell fell over.

The heaviness swallowing them up was too mutual to ignore now. They both knew a bit too much, were told bit too much but expected to play dumb... and to speak to no one, reveal nothing, posting bloody love yous to social media to fake play for damage control. Fear and worry were reeling them over but they knew no matter what they do neither officials nor the management would do anything until they sort things out.

They just look at each other, almost blankly, without masks of bitterness of annoyance.

It is just a shared glance, a mutual moment but with everything freezing over in the little head space they had, Liam feels a bit relived that Niall chose not to look away finally.

 

  
  
......................................................................................................

 

 

   
  
In his personal office, Alex Waters, the senior agent and team leader for the priority number one case turned the file pages for the millionth time. The hushed down investigations for the missing boys of the world rebound band had landed with major but blind steps forward in last few days. As they always say in criminology, there would always be a miss that would boost a solution to the case.

Not that he had been a fan of this pop fandom, heartily followed by millions of teen girls for the most part, but their existence could hardly be hidden with their phenomenal success story which had taken over the music industry. Also his fourteen year old niece fidgeting over the news of the so called accident, it would have been near impossible for him to miss the fiasco. And boy, was not he taken with surprise when he found out the truth about it all? That the so called accident is nothing but a carefully covered story to avoid panic and blames for management and security failure of a kidnap? Well, the kidnappers had forbidden any media attention, but still...

One Direction has been in spotlight for around four years. And with it all, who would dare to do a stunt like this with so much of security involved? Of course this is a contracted procedure... the kidnap, phone-call, demands, timeline ... it seems methodical, easy and structured. No complications… well hidden behind the simplicity. But in parallel there was something in this case that he could not seem to grasp with all the messy hints swarming around.

Danny Ray, Brad, the rated video fiasco... there  had been something that is missing here. Something that seemed to surface vaguely before sinking down. He had almost hoped that the remaining two lads of the band would identify Danny, even Paul has thought so... yet they haven't. The only near conformation they got was the Irish lad's hint that Styles might have been the one to have known him, which he already suspected, given that he had been the original target. But then it was next to nothing because they had no evidence that could lead to any possibilities. 

  
Turning his pages, Alex looks hard at pictures his team had supplied him of Danny... they were a new set, around two year old photos taken by friends nearing his time of suicide. From sort of a road trip they have gone on with six other people. Danny, Nixon...his partner, a long black haired hippy like him, three women and a man, whose father had handed over the said photos. His son had died with a lung cancer a year back, the man had kept his possessions as souvenirs. The rest of the gang had either migrated or were missing in between the lapse of time. Alex was not surprised, given their drug induced experimental lifestyle.

Daniel in these looks much different to his time in x factor days for sure...

 He looks hollowed and sick. His handsome features turned thinner and ill, even though he still had saved some of his looks. He surely had been high on his intake by this time... Alex could tell. He had the typical features of a hard core heroin addict… sunken face, pale skin and blown eyes. Didn't the friends around him suspect anything? Maybe they were in to it along with Danny. Maybe they did know but were too late to realize he was in a deep depression.

Tapping his pen on the edge of the table, Alex continued studying the withdrawn, depressed features, trying to read anything that might have gone on at the this time with them, two years back…

_What is your secret Danny?_

_What is your connection to the Direction boys? Did you know Styles?_

  
His stream of thoughts was suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door. His personal assistant, Meredith opens the door, peeping in.

"Mr. Waters, there's a caller in the line for you. Says it's urgent?"

Alex just looks up at her picking the change in her usual cheery voice. She looks slightly tensed.

A caller? Rarely does he answer to outside calls, even so with previous notice. It was Meredith who usually handles his official calls and appointments. Not that it was the anti-social demeanor his colleagues joked about him, but it had been like that for ages. He preferred it that way...

  
 "Who is it?" he asks carefully

Meredith does not blink. He could smell her panic.

"It's a payphone... think it's the priority case."

  
Without a delay Alex reaches the receiver on his table as Meredith removes herself out, closing the door behind her.

  
"Hello?  Waters" He blurts methodically.

Silence... and there is a ticking sound and a click. Well a recording then.

 

_"_ _14, Normandale Avenue, West London. Four more days."_

A toned down recorded voice says. And the line goes blank then.

  
For a second Alex stares at the receiver… but the next moment he jumps up slamming it down the table.

Taking his mobile out, he then hits in Paul's number in memory hurrying out of his office grabbing his gun and the jacket.

Paul picks on the first ring.

  
"Alex?"

"Get to West London! We have a call in. I'll send the address on the way!"

Pocketing the phone he hurries to his team who already had their cue with the address.

"David, Lance and Rick... with me. Mitch, Samson and Kirk take the backup. Meredith, alert the hospital... we might need medics - Teams, let's go!!'

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a cliff hanger I know. Sorry about that. It sort of is in a way. But bringing in Gemma, Liam and Niall was necessary at this point… as well as ‘Alex’. I have a bit of a character for him in this story and still struggling to pick a face for him. Will see how it goes. Hopefully I’ll update soon again.
> 
> Anyways I'm starting to work from next week but hopefully I will be able to keep up with the updates. Please read and comment if you like the story. Your thoughts and comments really makes me want to keep on writing. :) As for everyone who had given me kudos and comments, Thank you sooooo much. :)
> 
> Lastly I finally signed up with Tumblr and if anyone like to connect with me give it a click and a scroll.
> 
> http://evinaadlene.tumblr.com/
> 
> I don't post a lot and it won't be only 1D as well since I have so many other interests :P :) but I will be posting stuff there. So give it a go if you like and I'll follow you if you ask. :) cheers everyone!! hugs!


	11. Modest Demands & Modest Solutions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon his wake up in the hospital, Zayn finds his shoulders weighted with gearing up the management to get the other two out of the pit, keeping the truth hidden. All the hopes directed to Modest, their decision awaits with only few more days left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait everyone. Thank you to everyone who waited and probed me about updates. Hope the wait is worth it. This chapter is mainly Zayn focused. And Perrie is mentioned too. Sorry about that if everything going on is annoying you. I've decided to ignore the Zayn drama for now so assume him leaving never happened in this for now.

 

 

  
  
****

 

**11\. Modest Demands & Modest Solutions**

 

  
  
Zayn hates roller coasters... he really does.

The nerve wrecking speed and the clung of metal as it races your buckled body up and down, forcing it in to odd angles... His body hates it, the disoriented feeling and feeling of vulnerability that it sets you up with, to rely on the damn buckles to save you from falling.

So he panics as he feels it.

A rush of his body being thrown in circles. His world twirling... The feeling of nausea and air drumming inside his ears. He want it to stop.

Wants it to stop... how... how did he get in to this? He would never, by his own choice would go in a roller-coaster. He wants to hold on to something, anything ... speed is too much. But he can't. He can't.

How the hell did he end up in a roller coaster ride?

  
_'Babes... please...'_

That voice... he knew that voice. Is sounds far away though as if it was coming from a tunnel.

Is he dreaming?

His speed ride seemed to have subdued suddenly. He felt feather light. His limbs felt air filled and stretched... strange. And he was floating... just floating.

He is surely dreaming... He bloody have to wake up.

  
  
_'He needs more time, love'_

 

Another voice from distance...it's even more familiar... 

Where is he? What is going on?  He felt disorientated but whatever he was on seemed to float... he felt light but the world was slowly spinning around him.

Or was it him that is spinning? His head hurt.

 _'I... I saw him move..., I'm sure_ ' sniffing... someone was sniffing.

Should he open his eyes? Why didn't he think about that before? Stupid...

He tries parting his lashes, but they feel heavy... as same as his limbs. As if they were stitched down. He felt as if  he had just been thrown down from a height.

He has to open his eyes, right? He tries again but fails. Is he hung over? 

After few efforts his eyes complies. Slowly and sleepily. It was too much light... white, and his eyes hurt.

How much did he drink last night?

  
Still with a awfully swinging head his vision slowly started making sense... people... people who oddly had several heads at first... the hell!!

He blinks with effort...

  
  
........................................................................................................................

 

 

  
It's been hours.

Hours... since they received the news... and hours since they had brought Zayn in.

Liam and Niall sat on the stupid, fluffy white cushioned chairs with over decorated throw pillows, impatience smoking out of their ears. Stuck in the irking-ly comfortable hospital ward, both Niall and Liam had been able to get a glimpse of an unconscious Zayn  as he was hurried in to a private room in a stretcher a while ago, surrounded by paramedics and enough of uniformed men.

' _He is heavily drugged_ ' They both caught flying murmurs from the people around. The panic had screamed inside their heads, dripping fear. Is he in a critical condition? Is he going to wake up? Liam had felt his head swing... His insides were practically twirling inside his body.

  
Then suddenly he saw Paul from a far, following a very busy special agent Waters, Alex... Liam stared at Paul with desperation in his eyes, his heart almost thumping too loud in his chest. Paul had stared back at him, lining up a tight calculated smile.

 _He's going to be alright_ , Paul mouthed them. Both Liam and Niall breathed almost in relief.

It was all bit of a blurred chaos after that... similarly to the time when Liam and Niall had arrived at the hospital just after the kidnap.

Paul and Alex had hurried off soon after, while men in uniforms and management officials swarmed in, running everywhere amid the irritated medical crews. With everything getting messy, the doctors insisted everyone other than the family to step aside until Zayn gained his conscious and get recovered enough to see anyone else. So, Zayn's room remained tightly closed since then as Liam and Niall watched the suited and uniformed men and women started backing off.

 They have been sitting outside ever since hoping for a scrap of news on Zayn or the other two. With Doctors and nurses running in and out of the room, they both waited to offer space for Perrie and Zayn's family to tend to him, not wanting to get in the way. They wanted nothing else but for the time to speed up for them to see him, piled with unsettled thoughts and worries. But as usual the time seems to drag on forever when they want it to run soon, making them anxious and edgy. It was almost around an hour ago that Zayn's sister had been kind enough to peep out and tell them that Zayn is waking up, finally, before disappearing behind the white door again.

They needed to see him... they really did.

And they needed Zayn to tell them that the other two are fine, that they are just waiting until the help comes. For a long time they sit on their toes jumping on every sound, imagining the door opening with a call for them to get in. Frustration kicks in and tires them to their seats as the clock passes around minutes and hours.

  
When finally the door opens, Liam was almost dozing off. But his head snaps awake as Prerrie reaches them in slow steps. She looks tired but completely relieved, opposite to what she had been for last two weeks.

She hugs them both tightly, "He wants to see you two" she says after a long squeeze to Liam.

"How's he doing?" Liam notices a uncertain look on Perrie's eyes, something close to concern and worry.

"He's got a broken ankle ..." she says grimly sweeping in her hands to her jean pockets leaning forward on her feet as he eyes her, "He threw up several times. He needs rest... We ... I just want him to rest. I told him that Modest is already working on getting the other two out but he's still ... think he's still a shock... just..." She sighs tiredly, "He's insisting that he wants to talk to someone in management. The doctor is not approving official visits yet. He's still all dizzy ... We were told not to ask about anything until the doctors approve, but they feared he might go in to a trauma or something... but now he's getting a bit reeled up."

"We'll talk to him," Liam says as Perrie nods hugging herself.

 Several members of the Malik family walks out of the room followed by Yasar Malik who stops by them with a sulking face.

"He's waiting," he says eyeing the three, "I'm going out to pick some stuff for him... just try to calm him down. Put some sense in to his head and get him to rest"

Perrie just nods and Liam and Niall looks between the two faces as Yasar leaves with a light pat  at Niall's shoulder. They knew Yasar and Zayn didn't really get on well with each other most of the time, often engaging in little arguments when it came to almost everything. But isn't this too soon for them to fall in to the routine? Perrie just shakes her head and runs her hand through her blond streaks uneasily as the two boys, watch the man walking away. They could smell some light annoyance there.

 

  
Both Liam and Niall don't know what to expect when they entered the room. It had been almost two weeks after they saw him ... With vivid memories of the last they saw him in stage to being manhandled in to the black SUV by black clad men, both of their hearts thumps in an overwhelming feeling of perplex in how to act.  The utter panic and shock that shook them seemed to hurl up from their throats as they tried to take in what ever was in the room.

The first thing they both notice is that Zayn looks ill, thinner, maybe due to the loose hospital shirt... and paler.

One of his ankles was heavily bandaged and there were bags under his eyes as if he had been suffering from lack of sleep. Weren't they told that the three boys are been looked after? Weren't they supposed to be well and unharmed? Wasn't that the bargain?  

While them both have been stuck brooding in these hospital walls, what might have the other three had gone through?

Both Liam and Niall hesitate in the midway, not sure if they should just barge in on him like that or not. Zayn's mother, the only one left in there smiles at them with tightness, a thoughtfulness lined in her eyes as she passes them to the door leaving her son to them almost reluctantly. But she encouragingly sweeps her hand over Liam's as she passes as if silently asking them to cool him down. They are all tip toeing around...  a sign that Zayn is with ruffled feathers.

Liam closes the space, stepping closer to the bed as Niall follows.

When Zayn spots them, there is surely a mild annoyance in his eyes which immediately fades. His dark brown eyes goes intense and almost glassy. For a moment Liam does not know what to do... but then he automatically leans forward and without anymore hesitations wraps his arms around the raven haired boy and hugs him to his chest. Zayn puts his arm around Liam and his shoulders slightly shake couple of times with a shiver as if he was cold. Zayn squeezes tight as Niall holds his hand behind Liam.

  
"I want to talk to Richard or Magee" Zayn says not letting go. His voice almost too deep and heavy.

"You should get rest first. You don't sound good"

"I'm fine" He says leaning back to the pillows. "I just need to talk to-"

"Did they do that?" Niall blurts, pointing at the heavily bandaged ankle, making Liam snap his head at him. _Weren't they just asked to not to jump in? Trust the Irishman to old it back._ Liam just nervously eyes the boy in the bed. But Zayn just huffs with tight lips.

"No... yes. I don't know... think I hit it somewhere when they pushed me in to the car...I... I woke up with it after. Hurts like a bitch." He twitches with irritation as if to get more comfortable in his position."Don't know how I stayed this long with it. Choking the bloody air out of me now."

Liam keeps his eyes on Zayn, wanting to calm himself down. Had Zayn been with the broken leg all this time without treatments? Was he in pain all this time? With loss at words, Liam just mildly rubs his thumb on Zayn's shoulder. At least he is here, in one piece and being treated, out of danger and whatever else... Liam's head pounds though matching the absurd feeling in his gut. He couldn't hep thinking about the other two as he looks at Zayn. Harry and Louis... What of them? were they injured too, like Zayn? Were they OK? 

But as much as he wants to jump in to asking about everything he knows that he has to wait until Zayn finds his space.

Zayn's eyes look heavy and he could practically see him relying on the pillows behind him to hold his head up. Whatever he had been drugged with, still had the effects swarming in his nerves for sure. Zayn seem to be fighting to keep his focus on Liam and Niall. Would it be too much if he ask of the other two?

Zayn closes his eyes almost as if he was tired.

"You should get some rest" He says again slowly.

"I want to talk to Richard or Magee" Zayn repeats.

"You need to sleep and recover before anything, Zayn. You don't look well."

"I want to talk to someone in the management alright?" he says stubbornly "Where's Paul?"

"They are working on the case... Modest is already doing what they need, I'm sure. You need to get rest."

  
 Zayn just stares at Liam for a second before leaning back and closing his eyes. "They need to get them out."

  
Liam bites his lip... his heart is almost raising. Are they hurt? They were assured by Paul and the management that boys will be unscathed... but with Zayn's state and...

  
"Are they OK?" Niall's voice is almost a whisper. Liam could feel the desperation in it and it was the exact distress in his head. He knew that they really should not do this... The doctors had not approved ... but , but... how can they not? Zayn would be the only one to know...

 

Zayn just stares at them almost calm but the way his jaw works, gritting his teeth slightly, doesn't go unnoticed to Liam.

  
"They are fine..." Zayn says with a sigh. There is a pause and Zayn looks a bit taken a back suddenly. He lightly swallows and there is a strange tilt in his mouth. Both Liam and Niall stare at his hesitation with raising hearts. "They are -"

  
Zayn doesn't finish as the door opens. All three of their eyes shoots through the direction as Paul, Agent Alex Waters and two doctors enters the room. Paul and Alex directly strides to Zayn while a one doctor reaches the report files. He looks older and though his expression was calm they could tell his expression was slightly unfavorable. Dr. S. Malcolm, Liam reads his badge.

  
"Zayn" The doctor says in an authoritative tone. "How are you feeling?" He asks only raising his eyes, looking at Zayn from the report.

  
"I've been better" Zayn just mumbles his face void

  
"The gentlemen here requests to speak with you regarding the situation. I would have disapproved yet since your statement might help the proceedings I would pass the decision to you. This is a special request but I prefer if you would wait until tomorrow for this, but it's your call."

The doctor watches Zayn steadily as Zayn looks from the doctor to Paul.

He just nods trying to find words... "I... I'm - I'll speak to them." his voice sounds slightly rushed, as if he wanted nothing else.

"Fine then" the doctor says clearly with a bitterness. "Doctor Norris will remain here if any assistance needed. Would you please walk out, gentlemen? If the patient is in need of privacy?" Dr. Malcolm says to Liam and Niall who with a dismay looks towards Paul.

"Can they stay?" both the boys looks at Zayn as he glances back at them. 

The doctor looks at the Alex and Paul who just nods to much of their relief.

 "I hope you will keep to your word, gentlemen." says Dr. Malcolm as he passes Paul and Alex to the exit. He surely is against this, but for once the doctor didn't interfere, leaving the officer and the head of the security to their work. 

  
"How are you?" Paul asks concern glued to his eyes as the door closes behind the doctor.

Zayn just purses his lips. He then sighs and shrugs, there is heaviness in his expression as he looks directly at Paul.

"Get them out of there."

Paul opens his mouth to say something but the officer gets him better. "Have you three been mistreated? Are you concerned of their wellbeing?" 

His calm voice doesn't weaver, making Zayn to stare at him. Alex opens his brief case taking out sort of a equipment which looks like a recording item. Zayn just looks to the item to his face in a confused expression.

"Would you like to tell us of their situation before you give your statement, Mr. Malik?" he simply asks.

 "Zayn, this is Alex...," Paul says slowly putting his hand on Zayn's shoulder reassuringly. "He's in charge of the search team... and we need to know what exactly happened to you three ... whatever you remember anything that might help and anything that you think might help, so we can find Harry and Louis."

  
"You don't... you don't need to find them," Zayn looks alarmed to a point, panicked even. "They've said they'll free them if ... if their demands are met, aren't they?" He asks almost accusingly as he looks from Paul to Alex. Liam follows his gaze. "They said no police..."

  
Alex stares back at him carefully, "I'm not with the police, Mr Malik,-"

"Zayn... I'm Zayn." Zayn mumbles, hesitance quite visible in his face.

"Well, Zayn,... we are a separate investigation unit with semi ties to the Scotland Yard. You don't have to be worried but you must already know that this is a not a ransom situation, they have called some terms for Modest in return of three of your safe return. Modest said they are willing to comply with their demands if one of you were returned and if three of you are not harmed in any way. We were assured that you three have not been harmed but you have a broken leg and..-"

  
"We ... we weren't harmed... I broke my ankle when -eem... I woke up like this... it was an accident. They didn't get me medical treatment or anything but ... we... they didn't ... they just left us there... I don't.... I don't know where we were..." Zayn stutters looking directly to Alex who gazed back at him unmoving and calculating.

There was a pause as they all look at Zayn who just blinks without a word. The doctor keeps his eyes on Alex in a mild warning.

Alex sighs in the end.

"Fine, we'll take your word for it... but it might help us to find what happened and who you dealt with for later actions. And it will help your management to be ensured of the situation... so would you like to tell us what happened from the beginning, Zayn?" Alex just watches him as Zayn nods almost hesitantly after few moments.

But it was enough for Alex to act,

"I'm going to record this session, but ignore that and talk to me... will you be fine with that?"

  
Zayn shrugs again, lighter this time, looking at Paul who nods in a reassuring manner.

"Tell us what you remember from the beginning." Alex repeats as if he could sense Zayn's tension.

Zayn looks hesitated, but then he begins from the point he remembers... Louis and him following Harry in the corridor, where Harry noticed the gun in Jimmy's hand in the stadium corridor after the show, and how him and Louis panicked as he was dragged down with a piece of cloth to his face which they suspected to be induced with drugs. His vague memory as the three of them were dumped in to the SUV ... his ankle and its pain, waking next to each other... being ignored forever and Brad's visit. He keeps everything about Harry out intentionally, implying as if they had left the three of them , always sticking to the terms _'we or us'_. He feels drained though, and as if something was crawling up his brain but he continues, shutting his mind and forcing him to keep going. He needed to get them to act. He needed to get the Modest to comply as soon as he could, there is no other way. No other way to get them out. He won't take chances telling them of Harry's true state and the Louis' clash with that maniac, Nick. He reveals that the kidnappers wanted to get rid of him due to his injured leg... as he was told to tell by Eric.

Eric promised him, that if he made them agree to whatever was requested, he will ensure Louis and Harry's return immediately. Eric will keep his promise... Zayn knew he will. Eric had looked sensible enough for him to trust, and in the other way what else option did he have than to trust him? It is their only chance. He talks about anxiety and dragging meaningless hours in same position. He talks about the fear and terror of being in an unknown place under the thumbs of unknown people - all as Eric told him... to not to make any suspicions for the detectives. He presses on the demands and the way he was told to tell Modest to act before the time runs out.

  
Alex listen's to the half Asian boy carefully, every word, every pause and notices the gestures. He is still clearly affected by the drugs he was induced with, making it hard to read his gestures, but with his experience Alex knew Zayn is not letting everything out. He knew Zayn is taking effort to guard his words even he's dazed. And mainly, some of his words felt rehearsed - as if he is just repeating their phrases... Surely he had been threatened by the kidnappers to say things. But Alex does not stop him. They have gained the medical approval to talk to the boy with much effort, that he did not want to blow it out by stressing the kid. But he would get to that ... later.

It had been almost sixteen hours since the call. And as expected the kidnappers had left Zayn in an abandoned house of the given address. He had been heavily drugged and he had been unconscious for hours. Alex remembers the prone form of the boy laying on a old mattress without a clue of his surroundings hours before, as he now looks in to the handsome but tired face of the singer as he talks.

  
"They didn't harm us" Zayn repeats, again... "but they told me to tell Modest that they will...if their demands are not met in time." Zayn sweeps his hand through his almost greasy black locks. "I want to meet Magee or Richard, I want to talk to them... just get them to do whatever they need so they'll let Harry and Louis go..., please, as soon as possible."

Silence creeps the room for sometime as Alex fiddles with his recorder...

"How are Louis and Harry holding up?" Paul asks putting his hand on  Zayn shoulder, out of his formal tone, sounding more concerned than anything else.

Zayn steals a gaze at Liam and Niall "Fine."

Zayn fidgets with his fingers pressing on their joints, "Fine but terrified... all three of  us were" he sighs, wiping his eyes. A shiver runs through his body as they all watched "It was out of the blue and we didn't... didn't know what ... didn't know who... they didn't tell us ... just... we were terrified. You need to get them out... please don't ... don't wait anymore... just ... get them out."

  
"Mr. Malik, you mentioned meeting your bodyguards, Jimmy and Brad in there." Alex asks as Zayn nod without looking up "Did they talk to you at all? Did they act any different to others who kidnapped you?"

  
Zayn raises his head and looks at Alex for a moment with a sigh, "Brad, Brad tried to ... emm, he brought two of us food and stuff, tried to give me pills for the pain but... it was their fault... they were involved ... Louis was angry so I didn't... but I think he left ... didn't see him later." Zayn closes his eyes and leans his head to the pillows. "He acted as he was bloody sorry for it but he... I think he and Jimmy took off. I don't know."

  
"Did Brad act any different towards Mr. Styles in anyway?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said Brad brought two of you food... I assume you meant yourself and Mr. Tomlinson, since you mentioned him being angry. Was Mr. Styles not with you during that time" Alex asks without an inch of a difference in his tone.

Zayn just looks up putting his best calm face, but he fails to hide the panic in his eyes. He opens and closes his mouth without words.

"Were you three always together during the whole time or separated?"

"I... we, we were together" Zayn felt rushing in his veins... stupid... stupid miss. Why can't he focus? His heart seem to thump faster. He pushed his hair back from his face, breaths getting quicker.

"We want you to speak the truth, Zayn, Mr. Malik. You just told that it was only you and Louis Tomlinson who were there when Mr.Brad visited. Where was Mr. Styles at the time? Were you kept separated or-"

"I ... I didn't say-"

"You said it was you and Louis together when Brad came in, where was Harry at the time?"

"Agent Waters." Dr.Norris says in a warning tone as Zayn slightly fidgets in his position.

But Alex continues ignoring the doctor.

"You might think that keeping the details would help your mates, Mr.Malik. But believe me, it won't. The situation you all are in might be more serious than what it looks," Alex closes on Zayn, whose eyes gone glassy as he bites his lip inside. "You lying and hiding would make things worse. You are free but you left the other two there and end of the day you will regret not being truthful..."

  
"That's enough," Says Dr. Norris sternly taking a step forward as Zayn goes visibly pale... his breaths with effort as if he could not keep up with it,

'He needs to rest, you can continue this tomorrow after Dr.Malcom's medical approval. Until then, I would have to ask you to leave, please, or I'll have to file complains under disturbing the patient which will seize your permission to entering the premises."

Dr. Norris ignores the Agents' hard look and strides to the door opening it with waiting eyes. Alex grimly spares a glance at Zayn who leans his head back tiresomely before starting towards the door.

"Take the rest you need... we'll talk later" says Paul  as he pats on Zayn with a hardened smile as he follows Alex. He spares a quick hard glance at Liam and Niall before passing Alex at the door letting himself out as if to state the grimness of the situation. Alex lets Paul pass him at the door and looks back at Zayn who reruns his gaze, still pale.

"I'm sorry about that, Mr. Malik... but out of curiosity does the name Daniel or Danny..-"

Dr. Norris frowns, "Agent Waters..."

   "- Danny Ray mean anything to you?" Alex continues ignoring the doctors' protests, hawk eying the black haired boy. Nothing... just a mild question mark on top of the pale face and dazing eyes. Pressing his lips together, Alex nods his head as if it meant something to him before turning back and following Paul.

The doctor close the door behind him after a watchful gaze at Liam and Niall who looks concerned and almost alarmed.

  
Laying back, Zayn closes his eyes wanting nothing but to surrender to his dropping eyes. He skips looking at the other two, fearing their questioning gazes. Deep in his mind Zayn knew what the Agent said was right.

He had been trying to fight the feeling, the guilt... no matter what the reason, he had left them there to face the terror. And the terror it was... images of Harry, his weak and prone form, his red marked skin and Louis' bound form flashed in his guilty mind vividly. He had left them... left them alone to it.

And if something happens to them, he won't forgive himself...

 

  
.............................................................................................................................

 

 

  
  
"We would like to settle the demands, and we would like to do it within a day without any more delays," Harry Magee says as Richard nods, his grim eyes fixed on Zayn. "So we'll still be a day ahead of the date they've given."

His sounds satisfied as if they have just achieved some predicted margin in their sales run.

Magee, Richard and Stacy sits in the hospital room with some three to four Modest assistants behind them as Liam and Niall stands beside Zayn's bed. Upon waking up in the mid day, Zayn had  been officially allowed visits and he had not wasted anytime before asking Liam to get Magee or Richard on the line.

He looked much healthier than the day before and minus the nauseous and swinging uncoordinated moods. Conveniently enough, after the news of Zayn's recovering health, Modest had requested a meeting with the boys to discuss the prompt steps to be taken. It felt strange to set up a work meeting in a hospital room  but with Zayn glued to the bed with his broken ankle, they did not have much of a choice.

With Liam's, Niall's and Zayn's expectant and hopeful eyes fixed on the blond haired beefy man, the room barely marks any movement or sound other than his carefully measured tone.

"We are ready to act, as a management company whose responsible for every step of your careers-" he looks at the tree faces glimmering with hope, "-we are bound to protect you, our clients more than anything . However, as you might or might not be aware, this is not an easy decision for us as a business. But we are making it... upon a one condition." He pauses,

Liam lifts his hand to his chin, he clutches his shirt from the side with the hand rested on his chest not knowing what to expect.

"We cannot go through with something this big for label that we would soon be cutting ties with." Magee says matter of factly, as if explained everything.

"What do you mean?" Zayn's asks, confused. The other two reflects his tone.

"Our contract with you expires within some few months, Zayn. In ten months to be specific. That means we have the legitimate responsibility for your label only for five more months according to the contract."

"This whole thing has nothing to do with our label, Magee, its Modest they are after. It's your fucking responsibility... it's yours. We are just caught in the middle of whatever this is!!" Zayn blurts out.

In their short conversation in the morning Liam and Niall had already filled him with the threats and the demands that had been made for the release and how the management had requested a one of them to be released with assurance for the others' safe return before complying to any of it. Zayn had said nothing then, drowning in thought, before asking Liam to ask the management for a meeting with an uneasiness. They would surely work something out to get Louis and Harry out, won't they? They possibly cant get a slip through this. They can't. It's two bloody lives they are talking about!!!

  
"We all do sympathize with your condition, Zayn, and we are here in your favour." Magee says calmly, but his eyes flicker with a hard expression. "We need to help. So you need to hear us out..." Zayn just stares as Niall squeezes his shoulder keeping his hand there.  
"As I was saying if we go with this... we have to be precise about it, so it would be only if the both parties could hold on to an extension."

All three of them just stare at the executive men. Extension?

Richard straightens on his seat making himself taller than Magee.

"Your label's contract ends within ten months from now on, guys. We are a business institution and we depend on our profits and structures... if we are to take a step for this, we have to ensure there is a way for us in it as well, bluntly putting it there. We can only move with our decision if...only if we extend the contract with you for another five years."  
  
Silence clouds the room with a mixture of void, expectant and stunned gazes from both sides. _Five years?_   Five fucking years?? They didn't know what each of their plans were even in two years... they have already been doing this for four and a half and would they be able to hold the industry demand for another five? Even if they could manage it, would it be worth it with Modest? The extensive demands, work schedules and choking restrictions in their work, choices and fucking lives?

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose trying to reason out anything at all.

"There are only bloody three of us here. We are a five piece. How can we extend a contract without five signs?" Niall says, irritation clear in his voice. He shoots a sharp gaze at Magee. He hates the blond beefy man and his mildly threatening smile.  
  
"The contract allows you to take steps with majority vote in such conditions. Three of your signs will be sufficient to make it valid. We can revise things later." Stacy talks for the first time, her tone official and mechanical.

All management eyes were fixed at the three widened eyes in front of them. Niall hisses a laugh suddenly with unbelieving eyes.

"Is that why you waited this long to fucking stretch your legs? Is this why you demanded one of them to be released so you and get three fucking signs for this?!!!!!! Fucking unbelievable!!"

  
"Mr. Horan, we would do anything to pull the boys out of this but as a company we need assurance and your-"

"Bullshit, you all bloody wasted time until you can turn it to the least loss for your fucking shit, pretending it to be all good!!"

"Mr. Horan, we have been generous with the contract trying to find a lawful way to find a solution to the situation, there is no need to foul up your-"

  
"Please don't come up with the word generous with the contracts you've been tackling and adjusting to your own agendas, Magee" Liam steps up his voice low, "You've played us and changed the terms and it makes the situation worse as you all know it."

  
"Pray tell what situation you are talking about to make situations worse, Payne? Whatever your label had achieved, it had the contribution of Modest and you cannot deny the measures we-"

"You have jumbled up Harry's contract and we knew nothing about it!!"

Griffiths looks taken aback as well as Stacy.

Magee raises his brows, "Mr. Styles' contract was mildly adjusted with his full consent, Liam. I'm not sure what or who made it a concern in this context since we've been through with this sometime back with him."

"Then you know how unhappy he is about the arrangement... Do you think he would agree to another run of five years with it?"

  
"We are sorry, Mr. Payne. We have the best interest for the label, but the decision for us to step in and help with this, or not is your call. If you three agree to sign, we would be more than glad to end this and get the two boys back... if not, we all have to give our detectives the place and hope that they will have the best chance... We are truly sorry." Magee's beefy face shakes as he tightens his lips in finality.

"This whole thing is between your bloody company and whoever it is... not ours!! It's your fault that we got-"

"The fault lies with the security, Niall, there had been misses and violation of contracts. There will be cases filed against and actions taken after the next two days. We cannot take blame for-"

"Bloody security comes through you!!!! Not us!!"

"As I said we cannot take-"

"I'll sign it"

All the heads turn to Zayn as he scrapes his fingers through his hair with a livid and impatient face. His brown eyes almost blazes with tension.

"Get them fucking out, I'll sign whatever the fucking contract."

  
Liam and Niall just stare at their pal, noticing the irritated impatience pouring out of his form. Zayn does not look at them but they both know what he is doing. Zayn had told them over and over that they have been fine but they knew something was amiss. Maybe it was threats or maybe it was the guilt of leaving the two there... but in the end, only Zayn out of them knew the true horror of what the other two might be going through, and Liam and Niall were not stupid enough to object.

  
When Stacy hands them over three sets of papers with almost a sympathetic look in her face, Liam sighs feeling as if something was about to choke him out of breath.

They are going to regret this... Harry and Louis are going to be beyond mad, but what choice do they have?  

  
With no more exchanged words they scribble their signs in the contracts as Harry Magee taps on his finger tips remaining in his seated form.

 

 

  
  
.............................................................................................................................................................................

  
  
  
As the sound of the unlocking door crashes the silence, which only had been stirring with Harry's rhythmic breaths until now.

The sound makes Louis' heart sink to the bottom.

Louis had been able to get Harry to crawl back to him after much desperate whispering and trying. He had practically begged the boy, who now lay curled, warming every inch of skin that touched between them. Louis is hundred percent sure that Harry is feverish. Has the fever been there from the beginning? or was it worsening with time?... Louis could hardly tell.

  
Harry moves in his sleep as the two oversized thugs step down from the stairs, knocking their boots unnecessarily with an unpleasant sound.

Neither of them spare even a glance at Louis, but reaches for Harry, lifting him up and dragging him to his feat.

"Where are you taking him?" Louis asks  knowing well that he wouldn't be answered. The two men ignore him - yet again.

A heavy feeling tugs at him from the gut and his head gives a pound as Harry's dazed form awakes as he was dragged up. It takes few moments for Harry to realize what's happening. Harry had always let them take him without an objection before, mainly because there was no use even trying... But upon his wakeup this time, Harry only takes few steps forward before starting to struggle,  panicking, tugging at the iron grips of the two men. He fights blue murder to get away.

Only it is still fruitless... they were much more stronger. But Harry still struggles , protesting as much as he could.

Louis could just watch with blurring eyes, his heart hammering ... fear creeping up his spine as they manhandles the struggling boy easily out of the door.

Alone and bound, Louis just lets his limbs fall, drained and feeling helpless. His breath hitches with exhaustion, with not being able to help or not being able to stop whatever is happening to Harry.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well thanx soooooooooooooo much for the wait. Originally this chapter was meant to be longer but I needed to post this soon. So I thought the break here will be fair to all of you as well.  
> Please let me know what you think all positives and negatives. Thank you everyone again who messaged me and commented. You are the reason that made this update happen even with crazy changes and some tough decisions I had to make regarding my job and everything! see you soon. 
> 
> Next- Before we all fall down  
> Nick discovers something he should not have. An unexpected development in Alex's attempt to solve the puzzle.


	12. Before we all fall down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final hours with a ticking clock. Would Zayn reveal the truth so Alex could solve the puzzle which blows under noses. Nick confronts Harry on something that should have stayed out of his grasp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update might include some sexual situations. So be prepared if you are reading.  
> The mentioned song that you will find in the ending part of the story is the popular 'Wicked Game by CHRIS ISAAK'  
> You have to listen to the versions of Lana Del Ray and most importantly 'Parra for Cuva ft. Anna Naklab' as well.
> 
> Warnings - Violence/ Forced sex / Drugs (sorry if I'm offending anyone)

 

**13\. Before we all fall down**

 

Harry did not know why he is struggling... He knows it's no use. But he does anyway. He didn't want to - not in front of Louis. He didn't want to reel him up. But he couldn't help it. Because he can't cope with it anymore. He just can't. So he fights automatically, struggles to whatever the strength left.

 He fights, kicks as much as his legs lets him.

They drag him all the way out of the hall, along the corridors which he is now sickeningly familiar with. His feet just gives away as they drew near the room.., the cursed room with unfinished cement walls and white sheeted bed, the room they tortured and tore him in. And he can't go in there anymore... he just can't. Because he didn't know how to endure it any longer, not a second ... every inch of his body screamed and wailed, just wanting to turn back - go back and curl beside Louis. With whatever strength left, he fights murderously as the two men force him forward ...

But they don't take him in it as he thought they would. Instead they drag him further... passing the room - to a larger space.

 

For an instant Harry thinks it's a studio. Or a studio setting.

There were people in it, two or three men ... and women - several of them, dressed in ... robes? _is he going mental?_ It seemed like a bloody model shoot. Some less spent  session with a scrawny set of women in cheap lingerie. Men with make-up tools kept painting their faces and skin as if they are able turn them in to flawless dolls. A white screen sat in a corner and something like a mattress in a set up, and cameras... cameras with studio lights. _What... where is he?_

 

As the two thugs push him in, all the heads turn to him for an instant... pouring curious eyes at him, making him cringe for some reason. But then the wind blows and women and men resumes to their knitting, painting red lips and powdering holed skins in to softness, going back to their motions. Those fumes and sounds comes eerily familiar to him.

But there was a one face that doesn't move. That keeps staring at him. A ghost like pale face with cold blue eyes and dark hair watching him calculatingly, devoid of the usual smug sarcasm. High cheekbones and threatening lips, stoic and still.

_Nick._

Nick watches him, leaned back to a table in the middle of the room with a fixed haunted gaze.

An instant shiver runs through Harry's body ... his throat funnily hitch with a tug inside. He swallows with effort, trying to control his fear.

The two thugs drags and drops him on a chair next to a table. He winces as his damaged back hits the solid plastic. The tall figure closes on him. Harry, his heart thumping with fear looks up at Nick who has his eyes fixed in a sort of a grimace, almost as if he wants to get it over with...

"He'll need a touch up... too many marks on skin"  One thug says.

_Touch up?_ Harry thinks confusingly as Nick turns to the table.

 "Get one of the men to do it afterwards... Don't want any marks visible to treat later."

Nick faces Harry's shivering form with a needle in his hand. It was filled with a light brownish liquid, and Harry stares as horror creeps in with a harsh recognition... with scraping memories from the last time they shot him with a similar liquid. He freezes as a it starts lining up in his confused mind. Women, cameras, studio lights... What are...- what are they going to do to him? _Cameras... women..._ No, no, no.

Nick taps on the needle and eyes Harry after sparing a glance at the bulky man behind. Harry's breath hitches.

"Wha -What -no" Harry pants pressing himself to the chair as rough hands iron grips him to the chair by the chest and bends his neck sideways, pushing his hair out of the way.

"No..." He tries to struggle but winces and whimpers as he feels Nick stick the needle in to his neck without a delay. Hands loosen and he tries to straighten up, to breath out his fears. Last time they shot it to him... last time... he shivers as shame and panic washes over him. His eyes starts to fill up...

He shakes his head desperately ignoring a sting in his neck, looking at the merciless eyes in front of him.

Nick approaches again, eyes fixed on another needle in his hand. His head already feels foggy and light as his breath quickens. His heart thumps as he senses his body relents to the effect of the drug already. He grips at the chair arms and shuts his eyes trying to find his control. But he can't ... he can't. His arm is teared from his grip and held open... Nick pushes the second needle in just like that with a sting.

His mind goes light before his limbs as the cold eyes glance at him.

"Enjoy, Harry..." he hears Nick's mocking tone in distance but feels a not too light pat to his cheek.

Nick disappears from his view.

_"Get it done and bring him to me"_

 

Harry just stares with falling and storming senses as his body betrays him. Fires him.. burning with _need_. He whimpers as it overwhelms him, whatever they injected, taking control over and stimulating him despite of his battered and torn up form. It sets him on fire as his mind and limbs felt loose. He grips on the chair, fighting hard not to grind. It was getting worse ... worse every passing moment and his uncoordinated thoughts of shame, need and fear starts driving him mad.

He feels being dragged down... cold as they peels his cloths off him... shirt, trousers and boxes, striping him naked. They drag him, running rough hands all over him... pinching and scraping as his body anticipate touches eagerly while his mind screams in rejection. They laugh at him, running their foul mouths along his face marking him with teeth and saliva. He kicks out uncoordinated as they throw him between them, like a toy. They lie him down then, maybe on the floor maybe on a bed... he wasn't sure. Harry then feels soft touches,.. ticklish... brushes and wet layers of soft smells... all over him.

It reels his senses... he only feels need and arousal as he writhes in a sloth speed, world in slow motion inside his head.

He whimpers as they pick him up, dragging him again to drop him on... something plush and soft. He tries to breath away his thumping heart and burning arousal as he feel his surroundings light up. White lights... harsh and tormenting.

He craves... craves with need, so he curls in to himself.

But then he feels hands, flesh, soft and smooth. Fleshy lips running over him, every part of him... skin to skin, warm breaths ... no... no this is what they want, don't they? Every part of his physique protesting, he tries to crawl away. But multiple hands grab on him... wraps around him, slithering along his limbs...kissing him, licking and consuming him... driving him to explode in arousal and need. His body grinds with anticipation, lust overwhelming his senses , chasing away rationality... pouring pleasure between sweaty naked bodies.

He gives in... loosing his control over everything. He gives in...

 

 

............................................................................................................

 

 

 

Laid in the lush hospital room fumed in jasmine under a soothing dim light, the last thing Zayn wanted to do was to lie to the siblings of his missing mates.

He could tell that Liam and Niall knew there is a miss. From the way he pushed them to sign the Modest contract to waking up after terrorized nightmares, all of them knew he is not letting things out as they really were. Even Perrie, his parents as well as the hospital staff. None of them says anything though, only tiptoeing around him, hinting that they are there to talk if he needed...

But Zayn could not get himself to spell anything out. The fear and madness he felt for Harry and Louis, who were stuck in a pit hole with a bunch of maniacs. He wanted to .... he wanted to tell someone, anyone... but his fear is steps beyond than the need to feel relief.

Eric had warned him, warned him of the consequences if he spilled anything before their demands were met. _It is just a matter of a call_ , he had said, if he mouth off to lead a recue rather than complying with the demands they had made to Modest, they will only get to see two corpses instead of the boys. So he does not speak of horror, fear - not to the psychiatric, not to his family, Perrie , Liam or Niall when they try to engage him in to conversations.

But the hardest thing so far had been to lie to Gemma, Anne , Jo and El ... to tell them that they are OK, looking at their hopeful faces. They even look revealed to hear it from him that Harry and Louis were fine, and it eats him inside  with guilt.

 "They kept us bound... it was uncomfortable but they didn't harm us... " he says, avoiding their faces, feeling their unblinking eyes at his face. " -just it scared us though, not knowing anything... we had no sense of time... and the food sucked..." He says with a bitter smile to calm himself as the words came out of his mouth.

"Even food here tastes much better" he adds, stomach lurking. He could feel him sweating. He wants to be anywhere but here, facing these faces.

He looks up to find the concerned eyes of Liam and Niall turned towards him. His forced smile fades as he shifts in his position to ease his tension. He can't do this... will they all pounce on him? as that Agent person said, when they find the real state of the boys? Will they blame him for lying? Zayn clutches the back of his neck and strains back to cover up his thoughts.

 

"You should rest, dear." Joanna says clutching his other hand with hers. Her kind and concerned eyes focused on him. "Sorry we bothered you, but you don't know how relieved we are now, that we heard it from you... "

She runs her hand on his forehead, making his breath run quicker. _He's bloody lying_ ... he's lying to them, showing them soft colours when the real picture is all in a shockingly alarming red...

He's... he... he had left them ... he had left them to that... he had left Harry to that when he was the one who should have been here, being treated... doctors and soft speaking nurses looking in to him. Flashes of Harry's marked back and scraped neck hits him like a train... his curled up form and soft cries when he thought Louis and Zayn were asleep. Maybe Louis was asleep... but Zayn was not... his bad leg hadn't let him. So he heard everything. Every hum, every whimper... and every little sob he tried to hide from them. But Zayn had heard them all. Louis wanted Harry to be the one to be sent off... not Zayn didn't he? Why hadn't Zayn said something? why didn't he fight like Louis to make them get Harry out of there? why did he just agree to be sent off like a selfish prick? why did he?...

 Something heavy tugs at his gut, guilt and unease hammering his head. He couldn't look at Anne or Gemma who seemed to watch him carefully. _Jo's calming touch burns him and it almost feels like stinging. His lips shiver and blackness blurs behind his closed eyes._

He opens heavy eyes, turns his head away wanting to be rid of the comforting touch... Jo takes his hand off, worried if she had somehow triggered him in some way. They all look alarmed, concerned. He looks at them clutching at his hair.

"I sorry I left them there... I'm sorry..." His voice sounds deeper and shakier. He wants to run away from them before they sense his guilt.

"No ... no sweety... there is nothing to be sorry of," Anne says, sweeping her hand over the bed, "You are hurt and I'm sure they wanted you to get out before anything else... you've-"

 

Zayn covers his eyes with his arm as he feels his shoulders shake. He lays like that almost not hearing anything Jo and Anne say, trying to console him. He vaguely hears the nurse coming in and he eagerly accepts her shot with closed eyes wanting nothing but to blackout.

 

 

...............................................................................................................

 

 

 

 

Alex is twenty minutes early. As much as he hates waiting, Alex could not help being ahead the time for once.

He needed to talk to Malik. He needed to close this case...The last thing he wanted is the directors impatient paws scraping his head because of a bloody high profile case. So no one could blame him for being eager to finish it up. No matter what he thinks, the director pressed it to be done with ASAP. _'If Modest is willing, let them have it their way and get the kids back. Rich and famous are the last to be tampered with."_ the director had said.

So be it. Final statements, documents and case closed as the boys are released. That's how it's going to go.

All the documents in the brief case, he strides forward along the marble floors. _Marble floors in a hospital_... grand. Privileges of the rich.

His polished black shoes, tailored fitting suit and the long coat with the badge would have attracted attention in any other hospital, but here they easily blended in with the Modest management officials strolling up and down the lobby and corridors.

Modest employees are still running about on the fired up ground...  He could imagine the dilemma the company was in. One side they had a partnership contract with a billion dollar value and in the other, their most valuable  asset and two liable lives. Either way the company is loosing. Either way the company will go down if they are not tactful enough. And if they had been the top of the game in their ruthless industry for this long, Alex knew there would be no questions regarding the tact. So when he was informed few hours ago that the Modest director board is readying the documents for the cancellation of the contract in question according to the demands made,  it made him wonder what they may have schemed to make sure that their loss is minimum.

If everything goes to the propositions, the two boys, Styles and Tomlinson should be released within next 24 hours ... all in a happy place and problems solved, only to file up the case and close it down.

He, Alex should be relieved that such a hi-profile case is closing without a fiasco... especially without the Director being overly over his head.  Though there had been a hinge of shadiness all along in the case, Malik's return and his brief statement had pushed it in to a transparent case, technically.  But still, there is some strange notion that seem to float in the order of happenings, like a stain in a glass, which keeps bothering Alex behind his enthusiasm to close the case. An unanswered incidents that would have meant from nothing to everything. Even the conversation with Malik yesterday proved nothing but that.

Alex wouldn't call Malik to be downright lying... but he is hiding something. Alex could tell. As the only person who knew what's really going on in the other end, Malik is far tensed, and scared. He is lying... Alex had no doubt about it. But to what extent, he had no clue. But if whatever Modest is ready to do is going to return the two boys without scratches, then - as the Director said, - why not let it play out?

 Taking the final turn to the corridor to the private rooms where Malik is, Alex slows his speed. The corridor and the rows of white chairs seemed empty... except for a one.

Right next to the Malik's closed door in the chair where he would have preferred to sit, there is a girl with straight blond hair and almond shaped eyes, similar to her brothers but in a different colour. Style's sister looks at him watchfully, a hardened steady look in her eyes. Typical older sibling and a brain head for sure. She looks her description in his files alright.

 Placing his brief case in a chair opposite to her, he phases back and forth. Ten more minutes...

 He would have appreciated if Paul could have come, for the sake of the lad, due to their not so smooth interaction yesterday but Higgins had been called upon by Modest for whatever they were planning. Malik better should match his details from yesterday if he's sticking to his previous statement or Alex's would have to waste more time to finish the reports.

"You with the police?" The Styles girl asks suddenly breaking Alex's impatient thoughts.

_Inquisitive_... he could have called, but he is wearing the badge. He just spares her a glance and taps on his badge, twice... resuming back to phasing.

 "I'm Harry's sister" she says still eyes on him. "Gemma - Gemma Styles"

 "Yeah, I know."

She raises a brow almost as if unintentionally before lowering her gaze. She seems worried despite of the fact her brother is going to be rescued soon. He intended to meet the boy's siblings but seems he wouldn't need to now, with everything hopefully solving down.

"You here to meet Zayn?" She doesn't look at him this time.

Obviously, why else would he be here? He sits next his brief case and gazes at her, crossing one leg over the other knee.

"Yes" he says with a sigh. He absolutely hates waiting.

She just nods. Leaning to a one side, she eyes him again with a watchful glint. "Is everything alright? I mean Modest's getting it done aren't they... what they wanted?"

 "mmhm"

She bites her lip... eyes still at him, as if trying to read him. Suddenly her eyes goes glassy... she looks down.

"They promised that they'll be alright... that this'll be solved soon and ... and they'll be with us in no time. I - I just," Gemma shakes her head pursing her lips, "If something happens... to him... I-" she looks up tears threatening to fall, eyeing him almost reluctantly. "Something's not right isn't it?"

He just stars at her... she looks scared than worried, the panic in her teary eyes demanding him to feel something for her pop star brother? The amount of crimes, disappearances, deaths he had seen... is this any different just because it involves a world wide fan-base and famous heartthrob images with stacks of money in their bank accounts?

 He just stares as she sniffs, eyes blotchy and face red, "Zayn's hiding something... I could tell. I know him... he's not telling the truth. I know Harr-"

 

The door to Zayn's room opens suddenly and a nurse steps out looking at the two seated figures. Gemma looks down hiding her teary face.

 

"Are you, Agent Waters?" She asks eyeing his badge while glancing sympathetically at Gemma opposite to him as well.

He just nods.

"You can see him now"

He gets up picking his brief case. Fine... finish it up then. He spares a glance at Gemma Styles and the nurse who seemed to offer to take her to her suite or tea. He does not wait to find out if she agrees... just walks in to the room closing the door behind him, still feeling the almond eyes watching him.

Alex greets Malik and Liam, eyeing the mid aged third guy in the room.

"Hope you won't mind my presence. John Mayer, I'm Zayn's lawyer." the man says holding his hand out. Zayn does not look up but keeps his stare at his fingers and bruised wrists as if he suddenly found them worthy of his attention.

Alex blinks for a second. _Malik feels threatened then. Interesting._

"Yeah," Alex says. "- that's fine." He takes his seat in front of them after shaking the man's hand, placing his brief case beside him and pulls out a stack of papers. "How are you now, Zayn?" He asks casually, selecting through the files.

"Much better" Zayn nods, not taking eyes off  his hands as Liam watches Alex carefully.

Opening a file, Alex takes out his pen.

"I'm sorry about the last time... We were in a hurry to get things clarified. I'm sorry if we got out from the wrong foot." Zayn just looks at him without a word as Alex continues, "I hope you understand that my team's priority is all three of your safety. Since the latest developments, hopefully we don't need to worry too much, is it?"

"I hope so..." Zayn blinks, his deep dark eyes nervous.

Alex stares back at him, noticing some undefined layers of fear and guilt in the features, now more prominent, fully devoid of any painkillers or drugs. He seems in pain due to his healing ankle, yet it is the best Alex had seen him in real life, the overly handsome features despite of his health, which challenged his own appearances in their promo posters and videos. Facial hair, sensitive eyes, tattoos, guarded expression and quiet aura... yes Alex knows the type. Thick outer shell, but quite mellow - emotional - inside.

He prompts Zayn to repeat the happening of events from start to the end, which he does... taking a shorter time this time with less words as Alex scribbles on his files. Zayn barely mentions any names, keeping the words to we and them... even better than before. Alex does not interrupt, letting him finish with a even eyes throughout the time.

"They wanted to get rid of me, I think... I was injured. They didn't want to deal with it or something, so I heard," he says his face glum, "I didn't... We didn't get much time to talk or whatever afterwards... I mean with Tommo and Harry, they just injected me with something and I ... I woke up here. That's - that's as far as I know."

Zayn sighs looking up with a steady gaze at Alex, defensively.

Alex just watches him with an unchanged expression for a minute longer before he reach and take out the recorder he used the day before. After few clicks he plays Zayn's previous statement.

They all just listen to the slightly groggy recorded voice, Liam's and the lawyer John's eyes on the steady gaze of Alex's, which was fixed on Zayn, whose eyes were down-cast to his own hands on his lap.

 

"- _and, Brad tried to ... emm, he brought two of us food and stuff, tried to give me pills for the pain but... it was their fault... they were involved ... Louis was angry so I didn't... but I think he left ... didn't-"_

Click..

"Jus-" Alex starts,

"Agent Waters, I'm sorry but you are bringing out a recording you took of my client when he was under the influence of medication. You could clearly tell-"

 "I'm aware of it, Mr. Mayer. I understand your concerns for your client. There's nothing that could be held against him here other than withholding information that might resulted a rescue of his band mates.-"

"He had given the statement when he was half sedated and that could, by stranded prove nothing to-"

"Mr. Mayer, while I'm grateful that you are able to assist me with the statement stranded, I have to mention that I'm here by the request by their management's filed case for the investigation. They have decided to move with the demands and I'm here by protocol. In simple words, I need to clarify the highlighted points in this investigation to close the case. I would appreciate if you let me speak to Mr. Malik so he could decide to answer or not."

Mayer just stares for a while at the unchanged steady expression and monotone voice. He just leans back in his seat resting his chin on his palm.

"Thank you." Alex says with same tone and posture. His eyes turns to Zayn, who stares back at him nervously.

"Since mentioned, answering is up to you, Mr. Malik. I rather prefer you choose to be truthful for the sake of your mates if you do choose to answer." Alex says in an unchanged voice but Zayn nearly pouts at that not looking up.

"In this you said Brad brought two of you food... and as much as we know, there were three of you kidnapped. Were you three ever separated during your stay?"

Zayn doesn't look at Alex directly, and he merely shakes his head with a gap of moments. "No"

"Does that mean whatever interaction the kidnappers had with any of you happened in front all three of you?"

Zayn doesn't answer that time.

"Did you feel those men were interacting with either Styles or ... Tomlinson more by any chance?"

"I ..- I don't know. I was - was in pain"

 "Do you know that their initial plan was to take only Mr. Styles but they took two of you other boys because you two were wrong place in the wrong time?"

Zayn bites his lip, thoughts swarming to the time him and Louis lay waiting ... hours and hours of waiting, bound and ignored while they took Harry away for the most of the time. What were they doing with him?... did they constantly drug him to oblivion? but... but why? His mind flies to the moments Louis and him followed Harry in that damned corridor... Brad had ... Brad told them that he and Louis had nothing to worry... but...,

 "Mr. Malik?" Zayn looks up to the inquisitive gaze of Alex. He senses Liam's eyes on him as well. "Did they ever indicate that?"

 "I... I don't know ... they didn't..-"

"They just left you three alone there, did they?" Alex's tone turns slightly sarcastic in his stoic form. "All good."

Alex closes a pile of folders and reaches for another one in the case while shooting a side eye to the raven haired boy.

"Just for your information, Mr. Malik, we have evidence that the media scandal that hit square on Mr. Styles face just a day before the kidnap was in case a set up... by the same people behind the kidnap according to the evidence. It was well planned to stir all attention to his direction before he was taken off... brilliant agenda to get what they needed straight away, getting the spotlight to him to get him in demand. And then finding holes in your security system and using pawns to reach what they needed... all clever planning. Collected the right people, paid them off or threatened them enough to get what they needed. And if any of the pawns got in the way for what ever the cause... they got rid of them, like with Brad."

 Zayn just stares up at that. "Brad?" he repeats dumbly.

 Alex just nods, eyes fixed on Zayn as confusion lined in Zayn's features. He looks to Liam and his lawyer but neither looks back at him.

 "Brad tried to contact Paul..." Alex explains, filling a shocked Zayn with the phone call and the gunshots with fiery stares from the his Lawyer. _Had they really hidden it from him?_

"What I need you to understand is, Mr. Malik, that we are not dealing with amateurs here. This is possibly contracted and you and your mates might be dealing with people with possible criminal records... organized crimes and contracted murders, which controls London undergrounds with illegal tentacles."

 

"What ...like Mafia?" Liam asks as if ahead of himself. He looks tensed even by his own suggestion. Elbows rested on his knees, he weights his face on his palms, gazing up at Alex with a lined brow.

"Possibly" Alex carefully puts back his documents in his case, leaving just one. He leaves it on the bedside and sets his eyes on a worried Zayn.

"Your management is going through with the demands... if they keep to their promise, we are expecting the other two boys to be released before tomorrow evening... let's hope they will keep to their words, even if I have my own doubts."

Zayn's eyes hardens but also he looks relieved. But it replaces quickly with a tiresome and a questioning gaze as if to ask _what else_?

Alex purses his lips busying himself opening the folder he left out, "Finally, just out of curiosity, the name of Danny Ray..., or Daniel Ray, I asked you about him previously... the name came out several times in our investigations... all leading to dead ends. The guy was a co-contestant in X-factor with you... who got voted out, picked singing in pubs in London ... later in some top clubs as well... anyone of you might have randomly met-" 

"Never heard of him, man." Zayn says pinching his eyes with his knuckles tiresomely, wanting to get this over with in the first place.

"Yes, you said... I've got some pictures here. I would like a conformation as a final," Alex takes the folder he set beside the bed and passes it to Zayn. "Some of them are taken years back... some recent to his death."

"Death?" Zayn's gaze flickers at Alex as he goes through pictures of the fine featured man, taken while he's performing mostly... dark long hair, long and tall limbs, pale skin and arty demeanour. 

"Yes ... a suicide - a drug overdose. Intentional overdose... the reports suggests reasons as depression, along with his struggling singing career."

Zayn could easily see that the man was in to dope... surely more than just weed, Zayn could tell just by looking. He goes through several pictures of the guy with friends...

"It seemed that his depression was tied to his failures and your success as a band. I know it sounds buzzer, but there were mentions in the articles reported at the time of  his death, that his condition got worse with the knowledge of your stardom. His name came up several times during the investigations and we have reasons to believe that his death might have something to do with this kidnapping... specifically with Mr. Styles which-"

Alex abruptly pauses as Zayn suddenly glances up, visibly pale... almost as if he is ill. His face was as if he had seen a ghost.

"Wh...whose this?" His lean nail bitten finger points a figure in a group photo taken from a road trip... one of the very few which had the faces of Danny's acquaintances, or friends. Alex looks close, dark long hair... similar lean features,

"Nixon, Danny's partner for a long time... went through a breakdown after Daniel's death, apparently was violent and kept in isolation for months. Left the country after the treatment-"

Zayn runs a shaky hand along his face nervously... he stares at Alex with a cutting concern, eyes almost on fire...

In a brink Alex feel his calm burn in to pieces as several dots connected in his mind... _well shit!!!_

 

.......................................................................................................

 

 

 

Grabbing a several piles of files, Alex pushes them aside, tension eating him inside out. _Fucking hell.... bloody fucking hell...!!_ He curses to his own senses, clutching strands of hair in his closed office door. His Analyst, Mitch, who sat next to him, bites his lip.

After hours of running around, gathering reports and analysing, the team had finally put the visible pieces of the puzzle together.

Funnily enough, everything had been right in front of them and they had not had a fucking clue... Nixon Manns, Danny's bloody partner whom they had all given an easy pass due to his clear and transparent institution and immigration reports - expertly forged of course ,- had always been the shade they had been searching for throughout the investigation.

How could they all have missed?

After The conversation with Malik in the hospital, Alex had rushed in to the office to his team with a bag full of explosive leads that pushed them all down a cliff. If only - if only he had chosen to show the images to Malik earlier.... or if only Malik had more sense to open up as soon as he woke up - if only....

 After recognizing Nixon...or _Nick_ in the picture, Malik had only needed a little more persuading from Alex to reveal some shocking information about his time with the kidnappers. How they almost never saw Styles in the beginning ... how they were completely kept apart, that they've suspected that they had killed him. And how bad Styles had looked the times they did see him ... and how he was sure they had tortured him and beaten him... how he suspect that they had him drugged most of the time...

Malik had been hysterical... spilling that they threatened to kill the two boys if any rescue mission is planned instead of complying to the demands.

With everything out, it had been easier to make Malik see the light... that  no matter if the Modest complied to demands, Harry would be still in danger. So the boy had told everything he could remember, to the descriptions of the building to the thugs. But Alex had promised to both Malik and Liam that he would out the things to Modest, in case they withdrew from complying to the kidnappers, which would send the boys to a certain death.

In a way Alex felt it would buy them at least couple of hours if the Modest carried on as they agreed. But with everything he has heard, Alex is well aware of the high risk the boys' lives were in - though he didn't spell it out - even if the Modest complied to the terms. _Would kidnappers keep to their word or is it a fools hope with the involvement of Nixon, who seem to be after Styles' blood  for revenge?_

After browsing through institution records, Alex and the team were shocked to find Nixons' obsession with the Styles boy... believing him to be the cause of death for his partner, Danial for some reason. Reports and evidence came swarming in as they started connecting the dots and Mitch, who was Alex's senior crime analyst had dived in to piece the information with his team with a ticking clock. What they discovered on Nixon in past two hours had been more shocking than anything they had got to know about the case in last two weeks.

Nixon Manns, or Nick- as Malik had recognized had been an alias to Nickels Rudmond Moth, a wanted criminal with ties to London black market drugs and several deaths. His brother, Ericson, who considered to be a shadow, is one of London's a most wanted con men. Ericson has been a crime broker who had his name attached to A-class unsolved frauds, white collar crimes in six figure numbers. It is believed that Ericson to be the one to get in to the business Nickels,.. who joined much later.

According to evidence it was clear that Nickels had found his path in his illegal side businesses already when he was involved with the pub singer Danny Ray. It might have been in milder forms towards the beginning but his involvements were heightened in a span of one and a half years ... with his reckless moves and insane dealings, which soon threw him in favour of drug lords and London mafia at the time, he seemed to have soon shrugged away his brother, Ericson's white ways.

But then...then suddenly his name vanishes from the streets and as Mitch suspects it would have been the time when Danny's condition worsened.

At the time of Danny's indicated death, and Nixon's admittance to the mental institution, the name _Nickels Moth_ had become a missing link in the black market crimes. But then after an year... starting with last year - give or take few months- Nickels' name had emerged in the corners... more in forms of contracted crimes or murders ... maybe he gave up on drugs due to his loss. But his image has grown since as a contractor, violent and rash in his behaviour for some reason... unlike his brother, Ericson who was considered to be a smooth, slippery con with high demands and power in his pocket to the date.

"Do you think it's possible that this is a contract that came to Ericson and that he got Nickels involved with it... oblivious to his take on Styles, I mean? "

 Alex stares at Nick's original institution records running his eyes on the indicated terms, _dissocial personality disorder_ on the condition with an added line of words which read _obsessive , compulsive, frustrated and low threshold for discharge of aggression ..._ he taps,

"Or the man simply took over... jumped in to the chance, or Ericson might have given him a free pass. Won't be surprised if he did... he had an attendant and a doctor killed to cover up for the fake release papers in the institution for his brother. Why not give the pass to deal with his obsession in the first place?"

"At this length I don't see a possibility that he'll let Styles walk away alive... do you?"

Alex pinches his nose... he knows that Mitch knows, that he's thinking the same.

According to the reports Nickels had been suffering from a form of an ASPD which had rendered him obsessive over his partner's death. His diagnosis had, according to the reports, formulated through inability to come terms with the said death or his failure to prevent it... he had essentially blamed the pop star in deluded belief that _he used him for his amusement and cast away, resulting his death..._

What a stack of messed up records. Danny had been thirty one years old at that time and the Styles they are talking about had been merely eighteen. What are the chances that two had even met? But then, Styles is known to high profile London clubs which Danny Ray had played for...

"If he wanted him dead, he would have killed him already... and I doubt Ericson would be keen to let that happen with whatever the pile of money that is obviously involved in the Modests' part of the story. According to Malik, he's still alive when he left them... but we are dealing with a psycho end here. His blame game is strong on Styles to hope too much."

"Have the Modest passed the deal yet?" 

"Almost - matter of a hour or a few,... Paul texted."

"Did you tell him yet?"

"No, there's a chance that Modest might back off with something like this involved... can't blame them. They are already down with loss... this label is their only hope so they'll try to stick to it, but if they feel the risk they'll step back, I sure of-."

Without a knock the office door opens, two men in loose ties steps in with papers.

"Went through Moth's aliases and connections within past five months... there might be a possible lead with several warehouses they might have used for storage and unloading."

 "How many?" Alex gets up followed by Mitch.

"Three... or maybe four."

"Fill me up... and, Mitch... get Paul on line. Tell him about Nickels and ask him to drag the process as much, but tell him to keep it to him. There might be leaks, we can't risk it."

 

 

 

.................................................................................................................

 

 

 

 

 

 " _mmm hmmm hmmm ... no one could save me but you...-_

_It's strange what desire will make foolish people do ... mmm hmmm..._

_What a wicked game you play hmm hmmmmm_..... _wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you...mmmm..."_

Nick taps his nails on the dusty table to a rhythm, scrolling down the screen of his laptop as he hums off tune. He runs a finger of his cigarette clad hand lightly along his lip with a feeling of overwhelming burst in thoughts. He smiles to himself scrolling... and scrolling. He keeps humming in between, he used to love the tune.... more likely he loved listening Danny sing it, which he did over and over in pubs... it was his hit.

He scrolls... with a hopping amusement, looking carefully at the images one by one. _Payback is a bitch ..._ he thinks with another long puff... _and it's his bitch now..._

There is no going back. Not now...

_Buzzzzzz................ buzzzzzzzzzzzzz.... zzzzzzzz  
_

 

His stream of thoughts and humming gets cut out by the vibration of his bloody phone. He glares at the dull object with despise.

Eric... the screen indicates.

He considers ignoring... what a chill blocking pain in the ass...

But then he picks up, times are too tight...

 

"What?"

Eric sighs, "You know what... Get them ready, it'll be over within about an half hour or two"

"I need more time." he spits without a care. His brother needs to chill.

"God sake, Nick! Don't fuck with this. They go lose when I say lose. You have an hour to pack up and leave the bloody place. I won't hold anything up."

 "Whose gonna pick them up?"

 "Not my concern... police, security team - I don't know. Get the fuck out."

"You said we have the full day today."

"Yes, but bloody change of plans. Modest turned the wheels faster and so we go with it. Get your team out... sedate them and leave them there. And bloody clean that boy up before you do... get it done! One hour!!"

The line cuts.

What piece of bullshit! He bites his lip throwing the phone off. Fucking idiot-

Then there is a knock on the door. He hears voices. A smirk lines his face.

Bloody finally...

 

 "Bring'm in!"

he shouts taping to rid the ashes on his burning cigarette, getting up. Grabbing a chair, he drags it to the middle as three of his men step in... one with a hold on the arm of the boy of his amusement.

Long hair scattered messily and greasily, Styles looks pale, skin, clammy. He moves like a puppet, practically toppling on his own feet as Victor drags him easily...

 Nick points to the chair in the middle.

Victor pushes him to it, the boy hisses arching his back as he almost fall on it. Nick simply gestures and his men moves away from the boy. Styles stares through him, not looking at the face. He does look pale, but surely the make up team had done a good job... most of his scars were still under the layers of cover up foundations. He could make use of them later... the make up artists - the thought makes Nick grin. _Well, he would love to see him later..._

Nick takes the boy's jaw and turns it up. He could feel the boy instantly flinch at is touch. Styles is scared of him... that is a good feeling. He smirks, eyeing the drained face, taking a quick drag from his cigarette this time. He watches his weary features with a sarcastic smugness.

"We are running out of time,  so I'll get to the point," he says running his fingers along the long messy curls now greased with sweat. The green eyes stare at him glassily as Nick snaps his fingers in front of them as if to wake him up from a day dream.

 "... and I rather you be truthful this time."

Nick steps back then and leans back to the dust black table, eyes fixed on Harry. He turns the laptop screen for Harry to see, not turning to look at it.

Harry just stares, his killer headache making him slightly sway in his head... but everything comes to a hold as his blurry mind registers what he is looking at in the screen... rows and rows of thumbnails... older and new ones. Pictures... eyes, hair... skin, tattoos, smile...familiar almost like his own.

Nick lines his lips to a bitter grin as he watches him carefully.

 

"Tell me, Harry, what is your real connection with your band mate.., _Louis Tomlinson_..?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooooooo...... tell me what you think. Thanx for all who read, commented and gave me kudos!!! You guys are the ones that prompted me to write. Thanx for that again and again.


	13. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the knowledge of Louis' involvement with Harry, Nick dives for his final stork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the time I took but I didn't want to post it until I felt right. Still I'm not really happy with it. Also serious warning... this is not a kids' story. so if you are diving in brace your self. There might be a bit of graphic descriptions of violence and torture. So if you are sensitive to that or will be uncomfortable with it... please don't read. I'm not kidding.
> 
> Warnings for - Violence/ Torture/ Language/ Abuse and Angst

                                                    

  

                               

 

**13\. Revenge**

 

  

  _"AAHH AAAHH"_

  _"Ha ha. Look at this ... look at this little crying spunk. You can't take a little heat you rich ass?"_

 

 

_"AAAAAAHHH AAAAAAAHHHHH NAAAAAHHHHHHH"_

After a long drag, Nick presses the unfinished Marlboro to the wooden table, crushing the burning end. To his back, Victor continues to have his way with the boy, milking him off of gut wrenching screams while mocking him with maniac laughs.

Taking his time, Nickels blows out a cloud of smoke before turning around.

He glances dryly as Victor brings the burning lighter to the boy's torso once again as Clinton tackles him by arms. Drenched in sweat, boy struggles in iron clad grips of the two men, screaming out gut wrenchingly. There seem to be nothing the boy could pull out of his bag anymore... not that he would be interested to know anyway. He needed the boy to admit , nothing more... It won't be the same if he didn't admit. Had not he been so reluctant to confess of his little love match with the other one, he would have saved his breath and his skin in the first place. - not to mention their bloody time-But the boy had to make it too hard for himself.

The smoke he blowed, sweeps around him misting the room with a haze. Bloody Eric and his cigars...  but even the lush aroma of the expensive cigar hardly brings down the raw smell of burnt flesh. He huffs his nose, almost.

"That's enough"

Nick blurts after the smoke around him goes thin, casually eyeing the scene before him. Victor moves his hand once more towards the marked skin as the boy struggles. His pained scream extends to shuddering sobs.

 "I said enough!!"

 

 Amuse and laughs cut in half, three pairs of eye look towards Nick's ice gaze which shoot daggers at them. There is no humor in his maniac face.

 Not wanting to test the limits, they loosen their grips on the shuddering boy, letting him lay on the floor with continuous hitching breaths...

Victor being the last one to get up, steps towards Nick as the other two back off. He flashes the silver lighter to Nicks' cold gaze, tampering with its wheel, switching the flame on and off... managing to smirk to match Nick's livid stare.

"Get me some out of the stock and pack the rest to the cars. We don't have much time" Nick says, taking the lighter off the man's hand.

 "How much?" Victor asks with a raised eye.

"Enough" Nick looks to the messy haired shaking boy on the floor.

"Eric will be pissed."

Nick glares at him threateningly as Victor lowers his gaze. He turns, sparing a glance at the boy on the floor. He hadn't moved from the spot, weak sobs coming out his shivering form.

"For him?"

 

 Nick just smirks with a hiss.

 

 

 .......................................................................................................................

 

 

"Bloody ridiculous, Payne. You know it's ridiculous, right?"

Jeff Azoff snaps from the other side. "It's too weeks and I will either see him or speak to one of the doctors in charge. I didn't come down to London to camp at a bloody hotel and wait. He's my friend and as good as family. Your ass management can't rule out everyone like this!"

"I'm sorry, Jeff. I know it's ... It's been same for everyone. He's still in coma and It's the management policy to handle the situation. There's fans and media's digging everything up. No one except the immediate families had been allowed visits... That's how his family wants -"

"Are you kidding me now? Anne or Gems would never stop me and Glen from coming. Let me at least talk to Anne. I have no way of contacting them. Their phones are all off or goes to the answering. Let me talk to them."

"I'm sorry , I ... I can't see them arou-"

"What is your management doing, Liam? Do they think letting some friends in will blow off their heads? You kids got in an accident, nobody's expecting you all to come unscathed or bounce back like nothing happened. You all are not some Burberry models to loose a career because of something like this. I know there are tour plans and appearances cancelled but I don't understand why Magee is thinking that cutting all access from everyone would do any good at stage as if it's something to hide away from. What are they doing? keeping your asses in a covered box to parade around until it's juicy enough?" 

Pinching his eyes Liam tries to find reasons... failing to come up with anything logical. "I'm sorry, Jeff... I ...I don't-"

Jeff sighs from the other side. "I know... It's not your fault." He doesn't speak for seconds. And when he does, it was with a weary tone.

"I'm just worried... He's my friend and I know he has problems with all this shit. It's been almost two weeks now and there's no development... I'm just worried..." He sighs again. Liam waits biting his lip, his head all but a mess inside. "I'll try talking to Richard.' Jeff says at last 'Just call me if anything changes, OK?"

 "Yeah, OK"

 Not waiting for the hang up, Liam cuts the line and lightly throws his phone to the couch.

 

"Jeff?"

Niall asks, eyeing Liam without moving from his curled form on the couch. Liam nods letting him fall next to Niall.

 Liam was too used to hearing the concerned close friends having a go at everything for blocking them out of the premises by now... he had been listening to it all for over two weeks ... the lashing, reasoning inquiring over every bloody thing under the sun over the decision to not to let anyone rather than the immediate families to let in. He had been covering up for the management, downright lying about the conditions and coming up with rubbish reasons why it is best for Zayn Louis and Harry along with their families to have their private time until the doctors approve of visitors. But at the moment it was the last thing he was up to put up with.

 On the bed Zayn stirs in sleep. Liam partly feels envious of Zayn at the moment because he had the excuse to get pills to knock him to sleep when Niall and himself did not.

Leaning back he rests his head on the side, feeling as if running out of breath.

After listening to Zayn's hysterical confessions with Agent Waters, everything seemed numb to him. If he thought fear was eating him up before, it is nothing compared to what he is feeling now. And he is done pretending to be holding it together... he truly was.

Niall had been away with the PR team, when Agent Waters had come to visit Zayn, discussing the agendas after the boys' return. Agent's was supposed to be nothing but a quick conversation to confirm details, so he was told by the lawyer. But with the turn of events, the fire had caught the curtains and now they all practically burning.

 Zayn went straight to a panic as he revealed what really had been going on... and of course, Liam with him. The trauma and shock seemed to hit Zayn with everything pouring out, tearing his false calm face. Liam had held it together for the sake of fucking Zayn, until he was sedated by the Nurses who feared his bandages would come off with all the struggling. Liam had frantically called Niall then ... heart and head hammering inside. And Niall had come running , walking out of the meeting without any explanations... to a pale stricken, breathless Liam who had been trying to smoke himself to oblivion in the balcony of Zayn's room .

There were no one to scream at, no one to talk to or blame and nothing to hold on to, but the fools hope that Alex dared to plant on them. They couldn't possibly talk to anyone ... definitely not to Gemma, Anne or Eleanor... They dreaded what will happen the moment they find out. Even Paul did not know... Alex had warned them, including Zayn's lawyer, not to spill anything to anyone, in case there were still leaks in the security.

Alone in the balcony, stuttering his head off, Liam had barely managed to fill Niall with what Zayn had revealed... of the psychotic mad man, his seemingly delusional rivalry with Harry... what they have seem to done to him - bruises on Harry and him getting sick,..  Louis' temper and his clash with the man, Nick. Niall had just listened with a shocked face, eyes getting glassier with each of Liam's words.

They both had then panicked, tried to smoke it off with fear trying to choke them... paced around as if it would quicken something, anything that will save the boys, heads poisoned with horrible thoughts.

_Will they be able to save them? Will this maniac simply let Harry go?_

And in the back of their minds, something scraped their thoughts... _Louis_

 With his bloody hot head and loose tongue, is Louis in any less danger than Harry? They both knew well what Louis is like when it came to Harry... maybe not so openly in recent times... but with all that swirled, they knew Louis had practically lost it for Harry even before they were kidnapped.

_What if those men got to know?_ _What if they dig out the impossible?_   The very secret that had crept back to them after all this time. Will it matter? Brad knew about them... what is the chance that he would have kept his mouth shut? Should they tell someone? Should they inform the agents? Alex?

The very thoughts eating them up...

 After much pacing and loosing it inside their heads, they both now sat there with a sedated Zayn beside them, too weary to even to talk. The flashes of the missing two and the times of them as a group haunting the memories like in a bad dream.

Waiting... that was all that were left for them...

 

 .............................................................................................................................

 

  

A foul burning smell...

 That is what Louis gets first as one of the thugs take him in to a room after leading him though passages. The light is slightly dim but he could make out the cement walls and some scattered up furniture more clearly than the place where he was for this long. His eyes itches to the slightly hazy smoke which makes him blink back several times to look around.

Then he sees Nick, sat crouched in the middle of the room... next to a puddle of something - or someone... who lays curled, face down on the floor. The very sight makes his heart pound with an unknown fear. Bending lower, Nick seem to keep mumbling not bothering to look up, even Louis is sure he heard the door open. Louis catches a sound of soft sobbing and shuddering... controlled and painful. 

"Shhh... shhhh" Nick coos almost consolingly, running his fingers through the person's long locks as he tries to turn away from the spider like long hands.

  _Harry..._ Louis knows even before clearly seeing.

He struggles with all his might without an aim. Meaty fingers tighten around his arms. Nick looks up at him, leaning his head to the side slowly - some raw foulness lined in his gaze. A smirk stretches through his ghost like face.

"Nice of you to join us, _Louis_... Harry here is so eager to see you, I'm sure." He gets up as Harry just whimpers from the floor, mumbling something that does not come out clearly. Gripping in to his fists, Louis stares at the man icily with any anger he could muster. Fear melts everything inside him. Why won't Harry get up... how much is he hurt?

 "What the fuck have you done to him?"

 Nick sneers. "Nothing much"  He says, voice low. Stepping up he levels his face with Louis'. "Nothing he doesn't deserve, _Louis"_

Louis' insides cringes to the way the man pronounces his name - sly, almost like in a sing song. He tries to kick and thrash as Nick grips on his jaw and lifts his head.

"How long did you think you could fool me?" Voice calm, Nick watches him as if seeing him for the first time as if he is trying to determine his features. "Who would have thought...?" Nick says as if talking to himself... as if he is thinking out loud. He just stares - stares with a cold calculating gaze and runs his thumb slowly over Louis' cheek as if to feel his skin. Louis struggles as Nick measures him with his eyes... lost in a thoughtfulness for a moment before taking steps back.

 "Tie him up"

 He blurts out then, eyes still locked on Louis' face.

Louis trashes around as the two thugs start pushing him again... everything meaning less to nothing he tries to get a glance at Harry who lay on the floor...is - is he shuddering? how badly had they hurt him? have they wounded him? He tries hard to see if there's any blood... But he fails to.

 They drop him on a chair in the corner, binding him to it without an inch of space to move. Nick waits, watching them bind him and then turns back walking to on Harry's laying form again. It reels Louis up - what is this man trying to do? to Harry? to him?

"Who the bloody hell are you??!! What the hell do you want??!!" Louis cries out with an utter fear and frustration as Nick drags Harry's limp form up by his disheveled hair and an arm to a kneeling position. He bites his lip and shakes his head, looking at the familiar face in front of him, only it was half unrecognizable.

They had beaten him black and blue... his face is puffy and eyes red with lines of tears. Swollen, split lips and blood crusted nostrils. Louis' breath hitches looking at the torn up shirt, revealing red burnt skin on top of his once perfect inked torso and chest... He couldn't help but gasp over and over... The perfect ink lines were marred, burnt ... revealing red angry flesh... no. no. no... What ... what have they done?? He watches as tears trickled down freely from the reddened, desperate eyes. Louis' own eyes starts tearing as he grips on his bounds.

"I'll fucking kill you, you bastards!!! You fucking-" His words comes out even before realizing. He feels maniacally and feverishly mad and scared... his limbs shivers in the bounds. Nick just watches him carefully, regarding him up and down as he struggles. It reels him up even more.

 Nick just smirks.

"Sad to see him all marked up, eh? the little peacock who thinks everyone's waiting to get fucked up by him." Nick grips on the messy curls making Harry hiss. "And you will be the last one get fucked because of him...the same way he fucked my Danny and kicked him to die..., right, Harry?"

The man twists his grip, knuckles white... making Harry cry with pain. Louis watches with a lurching heart as Harry try to reach Nicks iron grip with weak and odd fingers, but fails as Nick twists his grip more.

"He took him from me and I'm going to do the same thing to his little boy toy..." Nick continues, is eyes dark and face foul.

 Louis could just stare, trying desperately to connect some ends, despite of his hammering heart. What the hell is this man ranting on? Who the hell is he? Danny? _kicked him to die?_ _boy toy?_ He shakes his head and girts his teeth wanting nothing but to rage on the psycho as he watched the way he held Harry trapped between his knees.

"What the hell do you even mean? are you freaking mental?" He spits out with gritted teeth, trying to keep down the shiver that runs inside him. The very sight of Harry's battered and marked body, his face, crushed in pain as the bloody man twists on his hair.

Nick lets go of Harry... leaving him in the middle, making him fall forward. Harry tries to reach Nick, although in an utter unsteadiness - shaking his head hard.

"No... please... please" It is the first time Louis hears him speak, his voice weak and weary, but also desperate in a way Louis had never felt his voice.

Ignoring the boy, Nick walks towards Louis, sarcasm lined in his face.

"You two hid your little dirty secret for this long, but no more, boy... you know why your bloody bosses cut my Danny off the market and the contracts as easily? because he refused... _refused_ to hide who he is. He refused to hide that he was loving another man!! That he was a bloody homo.... unlike you weak assed sham who hid behind lies - selling your cocks for fame... lying for delusional chicks to swoon on you!"

Nick bends down, groping Louis face as Louis stares at the maniac face, trying to connect the ends ... to grasp any meaning.

"I knew it was something else when you steered to stay... I knew when he piled in to you like a kicked up little bitch, that something is up with you - and him. Jimmy mentioned to me about your little drama, though he didn't quite have the wit to connect the obvious dots... and I checked with my contact inside. And guess what he found from the security footage of the night before your pick up..."

Nick shoots him a mocking stare which grips him in the bones, scraping his mind and stripping him down.

Mouth gone dry, Louis tries to remain calm. Whatever this is about... Danny or whoever, he is not dim to not get what the man is on about. This mad man thinks Harry and he are an item. _That they are a couple._

Apart from the fact that they haven't been that for ages now, Louis would have bloody laughed at anyone who had guts to tell anything like this to him before all of this... He might lash out bloody murder maybe, depending on his mood. But the irony of it... when he had finally found out the truth behind their bloody break up, the sky had fallen upon them. Even now he could have pretended to laugh his head off, fake to be amused or be reeled up about it... but this man seem to be beyond it, maybe too sure about it... more than themselves. Louis tries nonetheless, because he feels desperate as same as Harry's voice or his face looked. 

 "You are fucking crazy!!" He says, forming the best oblivious face he could manage. "He's my mate.. nothing-"

 Nick closes his mouth to Louis' ear, pressing the face to his,

"A mate you are so close that you suck on his pretty little mouth, boy? I saw the footage out of your security... Did it hurt you so much that he had to suck on too many women to keep up with your band's demand? Is that why he went around fucking other men, because you weren't around to fuck him?"

Nick steps back licking his lip as Louis just stares at him. There is no smile or sneer in his face, just pure hate and a bitter calculation. With parted lips Louis remains in a shocked silence ... he steels a look at Harry's hunched form behind the threatening man, who keeps murmuring pleadings in a shuddering voice. Nick seem to ignore him. Harry sways every time he tries to move. Heart lurching, Louis looks back at the man whose stare is still fixed on him. The hateful Ice gaze try to pierce Louis' fake calm.

 Is it even worth trying to say anything to this man? Louise swallows the utter dryness in his throat to find some comfort.

Then he almost jumps up as a phone starts ringing, suddenly.

"Fucking hoe killed Danny... _My Danny_..." Nick shouts louder than the ringing , "He was getting better after everything, your hoe dragged him right back to hell-"

 "You are fucking delusional! Harry wouldn't hurt - he never killed anyon-"

 Clutching Louis' wrists on the either side of the chair, Nick bends down to Louis' face again, maniac eyes unblinking. "He seduced him, fucked him and made him think that he's a bloody looser... flashing his ass earned easy money." The ringing tone cuts as Nick spits.

"Harry won't-"

"He went to the club Danny worked, ass drunk... and picked him and fucked him for fun! Danny was recovering from the depression your bloody bosses dragged him in to and your whore made him fall back to the bottom, made him think he failed... flashing his shiny car and the fucking thousand dollar buttons... that he is all a waste! made him think it only had a one solution...!"

Louis tries to shake his head as the man's face became darker, eyes venomous and a cringingly cold,

"Danny killed himself because of him!... I had to watch him die in a pit of junk like a looser he thought he was, because of him!! And he's going to bloody pay for it!!"

Groping his face once again Nick drags Louis up, along with his bounds. "He's going to watch you wither and die as I watched Danny _die_! in the bloody - same - way... doped out of your head!" Nick's yellow teeth flashed viciously as he dropped him back.

The words registered to Louis' frozen mind in a blur as Nick walks away. His breath quickens... he has to calm down, but his insides were hammering ... what is this man on about?? is this a bloody joke? 

The phone starts ringing again as Louis notice Nick pulling out something from his pocket, cursing...

_"_ _What the fuck is it?"_   Nick snaps at the phone with a continued spitefulness.

Louis' head starts spinning as his eyes search for Harry, leaving the mad man to hiss muffled words to his phone. Feeling foggy, Louis looks... finds Harry's face. He watches him numbly as Harry shakes his head, fresh lines of tears dripping down his blotchy face. Harry tries to reach forward, to the direction where Louis was bound, only to be held back by one of the thugs standing behind.

" _Where_ _do you think you are going, little bitch?"_

 They laugh in a way that makes Louis flinch inside. They pull on his hair, making Harry fall back... but he starts struggling uncoordinated.. his pleas directed at the man who seemed to completely ignore him. Louis' insides burns as he breaths heavily as he watches him helplessly.

Bound dead to the chair, Louis doesn't bother to struggle as Nick and another closes on him again. His head too smoked up  even for moving.

 "Try anything... I'll get my men to shoot his brains out!" Nick blurts pointing at the back, before untying Louis left arm from the bounds.

Louis watches him, feeling light headed... his thoughts stuck and ears full with sounds of pleading, struggling and painful hisses behind. The two men in front of him blocks his sight from Harry time to time, revealing in gaps as Harry struggles blue murder as they manhandle him.

Everything feels as in slow motion to Louis, drowning him in a numbness. His own breaths wheezing loud in his ears, along with his hammering heart. His mouth feels dry... as sames as his thoughts, which seem numb. There is a heavy tug at his throat and an uncomfortable feeling of something creeping upwards his spine.

_Is he going to die? Here? right now?_

_Is this going to be the last thing he see? hear? A set of thugs beating up Harry senseless? are they going to kill him too?_

_What of his mother? Sisters? Will they find him?_ _W_ _hose going to look after them?_

_What about El? Would she know? and and would.._

 He lets his hand to be dragged open, he feels drained to fight. What's the use, when he can't move an inch?..

 He feels stings... one after the other... he doesn't count... doesn't think he had the calm. Cold eyes pour in to him as he feels his head getting heavier and lighter at the same time... he hears sounds from a far...

Screaming, pleading laughing, crying... sounds of bone cracking and hisses of pain.

 Harry ... no... Harry... his Harry. Why would they hurt him? what is wrong with his melting doe-like eyes, the long smooth curls... stupid stupid childish grin and those kissable wine lips that is still able to make him stare at him hopelessly. Why...?

 A phone starts ringing again. It makes his head pound... in a funny way, because it seem so far away. Everything seemed to slow down in front of him.

 His vision is blurring and he feels blood rushing to his head... everything distant... darkening in front of his eyes. Everything bleak and messed up. Dragging in circles and circles. Voices spiteful... loud- too loud, vibrating and stinging him in the ear. Cries... painful and desperate. Someone beside him moves again, grasping his slumped loose hand again. Wasn't it enough?...  
The man inserts something to the back of his hand which makes slightly stings him... what ... is that a drip? But then his attention weavers with a gutted cry of pain. "Don't-... hu-rt.... please - him" His words feel alien to him the moment they come out in a slurred mumble. His sloth senses grasps Harry on the floor, reaching towards him as the black clad men thrashed their feet on him - Louis want to reach , stop them but his limbs feels heavier as well as his thoughts and senses. 

The next moment he watches as Nick closes on Harry. Lifts him with such a force and slams his hanging body against a table near. Louis' vision blurs... no he can't leave Harry like this... Harry is hurt. They are hurting him. Harry is -

Something keeps ringing... ringing.

 

And it goes dark...

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm totally guilty for leaving this hanging. Sorry about that. Actually I'm not too sure if I captured this chapter right. I feel there are still parts to be added. So this will be edited here and there again. But I'm going to post this since I already took 3 weeks.
> 
> Please comment and let me know of your thoughts. Love!
> 
> PS: Sorry if it was all too much. This is a complete AU
> 
> Also you are free to come to my tumbler- http://evinaadlene.tumblr.com/


	14. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally the rescue comes. But the coming few days will be hard for everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there all the readers!!! first of all, I need to thank all of you who supported and encouraged me to continue writing when I was having second thoughts. This chapter is really angsty and it might be triggering to some extents. So be careful.
> 
> Warnings for Angst/ torture/ flashbacks/assault/ This is a hard one!

                            

 

                               

 

 

 

**14\. Rescue**

 

 

Disoriented and heavy, Harry tries to suck as much air as his organs allows him.

Wheezing and wimping... weak mewls that rings inside his head. It takes a while for him to realize they were coming from him.

" _Lou-is... Lou"_

He tries... tries hard for what is like for the millionth of time, trying to concentrate hard with a consciousness that seem to drop every passing second . But he is not sure if he was actually saying it or if he is thinking he was saying it.

His teeth clatters, cold is overwhelming. He tries to listen, despite of his own whimper and sickeningly throbbing body - something, anything that would confide that he is not the only one alive in the room. If he could grasp at least someone breathing - no matter how thinly or weakly.

But no sound comes - nothing...

 Harry's numbed head throbs dully, dropped in an odd angle...  he doesn't feel good to move. Thin threads of drool dribbles out of his gaped mouth, leaving a metallic taste in his tongue. He wants to close it but none of his muscles nor limbs seemed to coordinate with to his dizzy and messy thoughts.

He tries to lift up his head for the hundredth time... only to have it turn and fall back pathetically with a painful bounce. _"_ _L..ouis..."_

 

Nick's blood freezing, spiteful gaze keeps boring in to his head from what may have been from hours before, still stinging him.

 

 _"_ _See what you have done now, Harry..." the voice rings like a repeated record.  
_

_He pulls a chunk of curly hair, turning  Harry's head up to see  Louis' slumped up body ,bound to the chair, eyes open but dull and scarily still._

_Everything tears inside his head, looking at the boy he was once hopelessly in love with... can't  seem to clear out his thoughts even now. The boy who had held on to him, bound to him like a rope to his anchor...  until he asked to let go, to be dropped in to the sea, without a purpose and drowned. The boy who had been his savior and downfall at the same time... Louis sat, staring blankly ahead with glassy eyes, ghostly  pale , lifeless. It is fault... him ... Harry Styles. He is at fault..._

_Harry feels torn, limb to limb, shattering to pieces as he takes in the blurry sight. Everything in his head tearing apart like a thin paper...  
_

_He is not graced with much time to process the sight though, as his head is banged backwards, spider-like hands closing around his neck, choking him as the haunting face drank his damp ruined features with such a greed in his eyes._

_"_ _He's almost there, you know?" Nick's voice burns his ears  "Tick tok tick tok..."  he makes a sound with his tongue, eyes right at Harry. "The clock is ticking fast , and he's going to die... dope and quite out of his mind - tied to that chair in front of you .... -"_

 _He smiles - sneers, "_ _And it's all - your- doing-"_

_Nick licks his lips like a salivating predator smelling fresh meat of his prey._

_"_ _They'll come for you, Harry... thinking that they can save you, both of you ..." Nick closes his face with his, attaching their heads from the top, "-but how can you be saved now, Harry Styles, hmmm?"  
_

_Harry doesn't struggle, doesn't even try to... when a forceful finger presses on his bleeding lip - his hair fisted and twisted just to bring pain. There is nothing he could do to torment  Harry anymore... they had done everything they possibly could for what seemed like hours, in front of a bound and unconscious Louis. He lets the man rake his nails on his face, scraping his skin, bleeding and unforgiving - he couldn't care less._

_Nick runs his fingers through the greased locks then, and grins with a sigh._

_"_ _You know... they will heal you, feed you back, will try cover up the scars and make you move on, Harry"_

 _He says smudging away the weak tears that keeps dripping down on the pale, battered  and torn up face. "But the scars will keep on bleeding... the marks... and keep on reminding you everything... everything that I did to you... keep on reminding that you are the reason. The reason he died in front of you ... like a pathetic junkie, choking in his own  drool."_ _His grip tightens as Nick sweeps away a stray tread from his hair, eyes leaning in to the tear filled greens._

 _"_ _Do me a favor then, Harry..." Nick's voice sounds sly and rhythmic as if he is singing his favorite song. "Try not to kill your self..."  
_

  _A thick sob hitches at Harry's throat as the words punch him in the gut._

They had left him soon after ... All of them. He had laid there for an eternity, trying to lift himself up, trying to listen to an any sort of a trace even with his fading consciousness and flaming body. 

He grips his cuffed hand from the wrist, feeling something warm seep down and drench the ruined shirt sleeve more.

Fresh salty tears trickle down his clammy face.

It is over... over.

An increasing pain in his stomach and a severe cramps seem to multiply in every passing second . Disoriented, every cell in his body seemed to scream with a shiver of a pain and monstrous chilliness. But beyond that, beyond everything that is raking his physical form, something white, hot and scrapes like claws in his head... freezing him and numbing him, choking him in his howling head. Repeating over and over,

_Louis ... Louis..._

Same thing... same name hammers in his head dully, tugging in every corner, making him want it to be crashed to the floor until everything bled - everything stopped.

_Louis ... Louis ... Louis..._

 

 ............................

 

 

A black SVU with tinted glasses speeds up with 280kmph in the deserted surroundings, flaming up the dust.

The two men inside, who wore safety suites and batches looks impatient despite of their years of training because they were well aware that it might be already too late. One of the two, Agent _Alex Waters_ , the head of the rescue team, tries to absorb each word comes out from his transceiver, gesturing the driver to keep the speed.

"Are you positive it's clear?"

Alex asks Lance in the other end. Next to him, Hendrick eyes him sideways, speeding up the vehicle a tad bit more as he notices the impatience in Alex's face.

"No, sir. There are new tire traces around though. Do you want us to follow up?"

"No... they are not expecting a raid for at least an hour. We'll take the advantage. Don't want to lose teams before we get an update on the boys. How many doors in?"

"We found four, sir- including the main which is a roll up. It should be locked from inside"

"Block it, I need you to break in. Use the other three. We are only few minutes away. If they are still in, they'll try to use the boys to cover up. Be ready for that. Follow the protocol"

"Yes, sir"

The line cuts, and Alex pulls his gun out.

"You think that's a good idea?" Hendrik asks keeping eyes ahead the speeding road. He could spot the old red-painted warehouse facility ahead.

"We are following the protocol. Famous or not...they are hostages" His eyes glazes in a hard concentration that Hendrik is far used to.

The bored and unsocial personality Alex usually puts on when around the office or administrations are mere memories when he is in the field. The usual brooding, hardly impressed expression turns to  sharp and hawk like. No wonder they nicknamed him _hawk_ behind the back, though Hendrick fairly suspected that Alex knew all about it.

It has been all thanks to Alex's gut feeling and suspicion that this case had gotten a head start. Had not he dug out the bits from the impossible puzzle, they would still be miles away from the spot. At the time Modest was given the location of the boys after fulfilling the demanded proceedings, Alex already had four teams nearing four suspected places the intelligence teams had rounded up,along with the vague descriptions Zayn had given. So upon the conformation, one of the teams were already few yards away the place . Alex had alerted the teams to follow up as he and Hendrik, his second in command, sped up towards the place from their original route. Even though how many steps forward they were in this hide and seek game with these thugs, Hendrik couldn't help feeling that this all can go horribly wrong in an instant. It is a risk they take in the field all the time- but this case is a behind the curtain high profile bomb with a bloody timer. _What if they panic and shoot off the two boys?_

"With the way the things headed, they haven't given reasons that we can trust them. Moth's a psychotic and I'm pretty sure there's a bloody clash between interests. It makes it riskier to wait for their call" Alex says, unclasping his seat-belt as they grew nearer to the place.

"You are risking the bloody badge, man. Those kids worth millions. With the fuss Scotland-yard made over this, if anything happens them, we'll be all packing our stuff in boxes even before the reports touch the tables. The last time I looked, they were singing to the Queen, man."

Hendrik says, turning the wheel in a one go as the SUV comes to a halt after an impressive twirl amid the parked police vehicles. It would have helped him to focus if he hadn't seen the faces of these kids for two years in his daughter's bedroom posters, grinning in their younger forms as if they knew some bloody secret.

Alex doesn't comment, he is already out making way to the rest of the team as Hendrik ushers himself out dragging his gun out. He follows Alex in quick steps, passing identical SUVs and an ambulance with white paramedics, reaching a different door into the building than the one Alex disappeared in to. The usual rush knocks his ears,  pumping him with adrenaline whenever they were in the field.

 _Well, here goes._ He grips on the gun hard as he lets himself in to the dim-lit building following the two officers who were waiting for him, huffing his nose to the smell of dust in the air as he goes. 

 

They had been nearly an hour early and Alex dared to hope that there is a fair chance of rounding up the culprits on the spot.Of course he knew the risks... being a high profile case, it would do nothing but the very worse damage if this blew up in their hands. But he would take the chances _._ He had an instinct screaming inside that the things might not end up simple with the side story of Danny and the psychopath 'Moth'. They would have to round him up one way or another to eliminate the threat for this boy even if they manage to save him from this madness.

As he moves along the dusty, old corridors with his team, passing room after room of empty spaces, his hopes of capturing the criminals began to replace with a growing twinge of concern. No matter what he suspected nor what his gut feeling alerted, he hoped for the sake of everyone that the two boys were alive. Not only for his team but for the desperate families and the considerable amount of people who seem to gather in front of the hospital gates with well-wishing signage and flowers in their hands. The media had been keeping the story among the top news since two weeks, despite of the fact that the imaginary accident they are trending everywhere is a downright lie. Artists, their fellow colleagues and industry top shots are seen in the news with thoughts and messages - though he doubted the genuineness of most of their heart felt sorrows. It seemed as if five kids out of nowhere - who didn't exist anywhere near the music industry five years ago - had invaded the music industry. Ridiculous as it may seem, the amount of adoration and attention the five lads had been getting all over the world had amused him.

And he couldn't imagine the chaos  if this went down hill.

They pass room after room in the dusty warehouse, checking every one of them with a growing anxiousness. The narrow corridor is dim-lit and silent, apart from the hushed sound of their footing. Three officers in front of him opened every room as they went, checking for any sighs of the boys. Despite being an abandoned building, it is clear that the space had been occupied recently. Shoe marks and and lines of dust wiped patches are everywhere around. Some rooms looked recently occupied. A one with rough whitish walls and a bed made Alex's mind skip a bit... not particularly for the dirty, rumbled sheets or a pair of cuffs that hang from the side of the bedpost, but for the random patches of brown marks in an area of the wall. Dragged over the dirty white paint.

Dried blood, he fairly suspected. Not good... definitely not good.

They leave the room ... and the next , another one with no luck. Where the bloody hell are the boys?

Five men ahead him paused in front of another door, a smaller door to which seemed like a store than anything else - taking their positions they waited for his nod as same as previous. He blinks readying the gun at his hand. The men try to push the door open as same as the ones before with less sound as possible, but the door doesn't budge.

"Locked" One of them whispers.

Well, that's unexpected... none of the others were. Alex just cues to break in. _Maybe ... just maybe._

Two gun shots to the lock and the men push in, aiming the firearms to any possible movement and... just freezes.

At a glance, all they see is an oddly slumped figure on the floor on the foot of a steel table in the middle.

Alex strides forward... hastily taking in the sight before him. Messy long hair, long lanky limbs... _Styles_ , it was unmistakable even though his back was to them. The weak sound was probably coming from. Next instant, Alex starts towards the boy, when,

"Sir..."

Lance gestures to his right, and that's when Alex sees the other boy. Bound and still... looking like nothing but a frozen life-size human dummy. Skin dead white, almost blue... and eyes,  wide and dully open, gazing in to nothing as if made of a glass. A line of white dribbling down his loose lips. Bound to the chair from arms and legs, there is a IV drip fixed to his hand with a clear plastic packet hanging above him... What the-

With just a moment's hesitation he dives towards the boy, "Alert the medics and check 'im!" He shouts directing Lance to Styles , ripping off the clear packet from the set up, making a cut in it with his nail.  He smells the drop that drips out. _No smell ... nothing_.

He looks back in to the glassy open eyes, line of dripping saliva and the skin that is still turning blue. _Fucking hell!!_

Thoughts on the edge, he bends down closer to the inhumanly pale face, checking the dull eyes dragging them down... noticing the unhealthy iciness as he laid the fingers on his cheeks. He had seen enough of overdoses to pick the cues.

"Mr. Tomlinson... Louis Tomlinson... can you hear me?"

He lightly pats on the lifeless face hoping to god that they are not too late. Pressing his index and the middle fingers to the boy's neck beside the wind pipe he moves to checks the pulse, his own heart almost pounding faster than it should. There is a slight weak feel... or is it?

"Sir?"

He looks over the shoulder to see three paramedics standing cautiously behind  him, ready to jump start. He lets go of the ghostly looking boy as the medics eyes the packet in his hand. "I removed the drip" he says handing it over. 

He steps back then, letting the men take over... hoping to god it was a heartbeat he felt - for the sake of many things.

Gripping on his gun he then moves to where Lance and Kurt are un-cuffing Styles' bleeding, pale arm from the table. Clothes dearly ripped or burnt, every inch of the boy's body looks black , blue or red. Alex cautiously stares at the boy as something like an alarming shiver catches his body. His eyes seem open, though he does not seem to be fully conscious. The two medics wait for the officers to lay him on the ground to give aid but the next moment Styles suddenly starts thrashing... throwing his arms and legs as if to get away. His eyes unfocused and full blown in panic. He shudders like an animal trying to break free, with breaths hitching, as if not seeing anything beyond something invincible and horrific.

"It's OK... it's OK... shhhh shhhh shhh"

Lance try to calm the boy but the words seemed to set him up more.

"Hold him ... hold him down, we'll have to sedate him" one of the medics says as the other readies the shot. But Styles struggles bloody murder, thrashing at them as he is having a seizure. Lance steps back as Alex closes in as the boy struggles more and more. With nothing else left to do, Alex wraps his arms around the boy, holding him in regardless of his dirty bleeding form.

"It's over... it's over... you are safe, Mr. Styles, Harry. Listen to me...We are from police... It's over. We are here to save you. You are fine now..." He says, calm and steady. Alex sets his firm hand on the back of his head pressing the boy to him as the thrashing slowly subdues.

"It's over... it's OK" he repeats over and over, running his other hand lightly on the back of his neck, slightly rocking. The boy fidgets  a bit but lets out a shaky sob, clutching on to him and panting like a desperate kid. "Everything's fine... We are here to save you... It's all fine now." , Alex  presses his hand steadily, running his thumb down the neck to clam him down. "It's all fine" he whispers.

Styles seem to respond, his thrashing stops but with an increasing shudder that starts to grow. His breathing sounds laboured and heavy, and he mumbles incoherently as Alex let Lance and Kurt take him to lay down for the waiting medics. The boys grip linger on Alex's arm until Lance gently removes it. 

Lance and Kurt lay him down but no matter how careful the two men sets him down, still the boy  winces, tries to curl in, dangerously shivering now. He seems to be in pain. His greasy, dishevelled, long hair covers half of his face as he mumbles with sobs. 

"Easy kid easy..." Lance tries but Alex doubts if he could hear any of it... he keeps mumbling, what might looked like the same thing, words an unclear jumble. Patches and patches of fresh and old gashes on his pale clammy skin. His torn cloths revealed nasty wounds which Alex is sure to be burn marks among cuts an discoloured patches.  He keeps shivering as if buried in ice. He looks traumatized and severely bruised all over. Spotting some of the markings in his body - including several cuts that read ' _Modest_ ', in clear red lines in his skin. Looking at him, he could vaguely guess the extends of terrors the psychotic, Nixon Moth had put him true. But in reality, Alex knew none of them could not possibly guess.

Turning his head, Alex looks to Tomlinson, surrounded by paramedics. He is ghostly pale in his unconscious form.  But apart from few bruises, cut marks around wrists and a bloody nose, Tomlinson looks unmarked... unlike Styles looks practically ruined

They stand back for the medics to do their work.  Styles twitches throughout, curling his bare feet and toes in painful directions as he gets prodded. Something seem dearly wrong with the sloth way he is moving, as he was in some sort of a pain.

"He's steadying" a medic states regardless Alex's thoughts. But Alex feels something shaded behind their eyes. It is after fifteen more minutes that medics confirm a heartbeat from Tomlinson, and Alex for the first time feels much relieved since Malik's revelation. But looking at Styles he twinges, remembering the brief and awkward conversation he had with Gemma Styles in the hospital corridor.  He preferably avoids thinking the panic that will hit once the two boys are taken to the hospital, reaction of the families, and of cause the Management who believes everything is fine.

It is going to be a mayhem.

 

 

....................................................................

 

 

 

 

Liam can't help biting his nails.

He never bites his nails... not even when he has to jump off a cliff to a pile of screaming fans and paps. But his head is pounding with nerves and fear. He phases back and forth in front of the couch where Niall sat with his limbs curled... with eyes closed. He's purposefully avoiding all the faces in the room full of anxious and impatient siblings of the missing boys, he knew.

Liam feels tempted to do just the same.

The over pouring relief and hope on the faces in the prim room is making him almost gag. Anne, Des, Robin, Jay, El and Lottie holding on to each other as if they all had overcome some dark hour, whispering and murmuring, tearful words of overwhelming emotion. Gemma on the other hand, sat in a corner, glued to her phone, looking much less revealed. She seem paler than usual... is she suspecting something? or did she just feel that something is off from the way both Liam and Niall were avoiding everyone?

In the peak of their suffocating waiting game, they had practically panicked when they were all called to the doctor's conference room ... which indirectly meant that they've found them. No matter how much they both wanted to call Paul and ask him of the two boys' condition they felt reluctant to do so... Scared what they might have to listen to.

Only Zayn was not there, glued to the bed with his fractured ankle. They both knew that he was glad in a one hand to not to witness the reactions of the families. But on the other hand, Zayn seem desperate to see the two boys he had left behind.  He had made them promise to keep him updated, however bad it is. 

The door opens with a click and all the heads turn to Paul,  agent Waters and several officers and doctors who walk in. One look at Paul, Liam could tell that everything is wrong. Not that both Liam and Niall knew it already. Paul's face looks grim and distressed. With a shiver running through his body, Liam stares at Paul - he can't even bare to imagine the worse. He just couldn't. _Please... Please let them be alive..._ Liam prays inside his head - like he had never done before - Please...

The grim looks on the faces of the security and agents slowly starts turning the hope filled faces in the room fearful and edgy with the tension.

"We got them."

Paul says to all of them, making all of them release the breaths they were holding. Paul's face looks tight, pale and even slightly twitching. "Both of them." He mumbles.

Liam notices Alex's eyes brush over Gemma who is staring at him with tear filling eyes. It's as if her frown is waiting for them to give them the bad news... as if she already knew...

"I - I want to meet my boy... please take me to my boy" Jay says, stepping forward, looking at the officers expectantly.

"We found them, they both are under treatments as we speak. But there are some complications that we did not fully expect." Alex speaks in a monotone, looking at each of there faces carefully. Paul just looks down with bound hands. Liam could not process anything other than the way Paul is practically trying to avoid their faces. He already knew what they are going to say about Harry... both he and Niall had a fair idea.

"Complications?" Anne asks in a smaller voice , her tone and face lined with concern as tears start tricking down Gemma's face. El's expression unreadable and suddenly frozen with fear, mirroring Jay's.

"I suggest you all take a seat, please" Alex gestures to the large round table in the room. Everyone hesitates for a second looking from Alex to Paul as Alex starts towards the table. Heart thumping, Liam puts his arm around Niall's, dragging him as he follow.

Paul follows Alex, gesturing everyone else to sit. Apart from Liam and Niall everyone sits, families practically holding on to each other with a draining thoughts of relief in their eyes.

This is going to be a long hour... Liam knew.

 

................................................................................................................

 

 

 

 

_It all looks like flashes - faces, men, women... people. Walls. White walls pulling up - up & up in front of him. Maybe he's on his back, laying down. Everything moves ... he tries to hold on to anything - anything he could grip on. But he finds none. His grip fails._

_His world spins like mad._ _Nausea ... he could feel it coming up from his very gut ._

E _verything else is frozen,_ _numb..._

 _His body is broken and bleeding - he knew. But i_ _t is as if he could not feel anything...  as if he was under a pile of heavy rocks - he couldn't move._

 

_Next moment, everything seemed still... static._

With an empty detachment and slurring stream of confused thoughts, Harry watches as a white clad woman lay many things on the table in the foot of the bed. Is she a nurse?

Medical seizes,  knives, rolls of cotton wool, plastic bags and unfamiliar medical instruments.

His eyes itches... His body feels groggy, and numb.

He vaguely remembers a man talking about pain medication to him. It all throbbed dully all over still, but whatever they have given him seem to numb the bleeding pains, dragging him back from madness. But now his thoughts seem to roll in again. And it made him want to tear his hair and vomit until it is all empty inside.

He felt sick to his stomach... But he lay there motionless, eyes dry as same as his mind... _why is he alive??? how?_

He wanted to crash and scream, howl until his throat ripped, yet all he felt was numbness.

Numbness over his screaming mind, blaming thoughts and ripping devastation...

Numbness over his scarred heart and stinging tears for the one he had lost. Harsh truth kept raking him mercilessly  but he just felt empty, drained- too spent and done with.

His head is crashing, and storming inside, but the medicine they have given him chained him down to calmness. The nurse tries to smile at him encouragingly noticing his attention but he closes his eyes, feeling too weak to spend energy on anything.

 _Louis is gone_... _and his soul with him._

_It is his fault...his own..._

_There was no pretending otherwise... no going back. The blame is all on him... as Nick had said. He had killed Louis._

 

 

 

After sometime a doctor and several other nurses walks in to the room, introducing them to him. The doctor informs him that they need to run some medical examinations, to decide on extends of the assaults and determine the treatments. Harry just stares at him without a word, only partially hearing the voice.

They remove his torn and ruined clothes, cutting them out from his body carefully. He barley manages to stay still as they prod and prob him, turning him around as the doctor spells out his injuries and records the statements. He barely listens to him. 

They examine his chest, torso, back, lower regions, hands, neck... almost every body part there is, pointing out injuries one by one. Contusions, lacerations, abrasions, broken ribs, bones, cuts, burns and bite marks... list goes on and on. The doctor inquires him of the evident assaults that he had seemed to gone through in the gentlest tone possible... physical and sexual. Blood rushes slowly to his head making him dizzy, knowing eyes on him. He just nods, setting an empty stare at the man's calm face. He could grasp the sympathy on those eyes. He nods again as they suggest an assault kit, feeling bare and exposed... but he bites down his tongue and goes with it, not knowing how to refuse, though he wanted to.

They examine his mouth, nails... comb his hair and clicks picture after picture. Every time they clicks a photo, he flinches, stomach churning uncomfortably. _It keeps flashing at him... white, unforgiving - sneering at his naked body. There's nothing he could do to protest._ His wheezing breaths gets louder as they examine between his legs, and he grips down at his hair and cries silently through internal examinations. The nurses try to console him but Harry knew it was useless.

He was damned to grief, like a shadow to a body...

They clean him then, wiping away the dirt, blood and everything else on his skin expertly and so gently, yet his eyes tears unnecessarily without a reason. The Doctor explain to him of the treatments, mentioning about a drug detoxification which he barely listens... he does not care anymore... it is all to much - all too much for I'm to pay attention. He barely registers the doctor requesting a name from him to remain by his side as support but he would rather die than letting anyone see him like this. But in the end he agrees to have Liam by his side.

"We are going to have to clean and dress the burns, Harry... and it might get a bit uncomfortable, a little painful," The doctor says, "We cannot give you much pain medication due to some complications, but we are going to be gentle as much as we could, alright?"

He just stares as he had been doing all along, though through an already blurred vision.

But nothing - nothing could have prepared him for the pain that comes next. He arches his throbbing back and grits teeth, barely controlling the scream that almost comes out of him.  His skin on flame again, burning  the bleeding flesh, making his bile rise. He fists the sheets and sobs through it but the pain is too much...

He feels the grips holding him down again and in an instant his head goes wild. He is there again- _in the dirty , dusty room being held down, forced down beaten and...and,_

_He have to get out... out... he can't any more... he starts fighting them off as his own saliva choked him... brutal grips holding him down... he can't move... can't breath. His own skin melting around the red hot flame. The pain... pain consuming him. The laughs... laughs and his own cries overrun by crude mocking voices. Pathetic... weak... violated and humiliated to nothing. He can't ... he won't... He panics and  withers ... struggles his head off until something stings somewhere in his body and everything goes numb... Then everything starts to turn off in a sloth speed..._

_...Blackout._

 

 ............................

 

Next time he wakes up, he feels something  soft resting next to his hand. He opens his eyes to a painful light and a white ceiling, feeling exhausted. Something stings his arm, making it heavier... an IV drip... bandages and plasters covering his half of his body. Looking down he catches a sleek brunette head, laying  on the bed. His eyes hurt, and his throat felt scraped. He could use some water...

He reaches out slowly with an effort, and pokes the head carefully with his bandaged fingers. The head pops up suddenly, tiresome swollen eyes turning to a love soaked concern in a blink. She smiles though with welling tears.

Something tugs heavy at his throat he moves his lips to call her,

"Mum"

He tries... but the sound doesn't come. She clutches his weak hand carefully and draws closer to his face, smiling through her dripping tears.

"My angel is back" she says softly, kissing his bruised skin. Her hand reaches his tearing face gently, cupping his swollen and bruised cheek. "You are safe now... I'm here, love."

His breath hitches with a deep craving for the unconditional affection her voice and eyes offers. He knows he does not have to say anything ... reveal anything or explain anything to her. She knows as she had known all the time when he was hurting. His leaking eyes watches her in a desperate yearning...

She bends down to him, carefully avoiding his plastered up bruises and wounds, diving her hand around his neck she hugs him deep. Under her warmth  he finds all his bounds loosen and it breaks him completely.  He sobs like a child in her arms as Anne holds him running her fingers through his long curls letting her tears stream down as well.

"It's going to be alright... It's all going to be alright" She whispers through tears.

He does not know how long he cries or how hard... he doesn't care.

 

...................................

 

 

 

 "Upon the initial scans, we have found several broken ribs, fingers and mid level internal bleeding in abdominal areas including  the intestines and the liver. He had to go through several operations and they have been fixed and treated with already. But he would need extensive bed resting for full recovery."

Dr. Stevens, the head of the unit says as the Styles family sat in the small lobby area just out of the room their son, brother was in.  Four pairs of tear-soaked eyes looked at him with utter shock, sadness and fear. But the doctor knew there is no other way, they have to know- have to understand the true nature of the boys' injuries to really be able to help him.

Despite her tearing eyes, Gemma tries to bite her tongue and not make a sound. 

She could not comprehend even to think what her brother had gone through in the past two weeks, but _gosh_ her heart had shattered when she had seen him. Doctors had explained to them the shocking extents of injuries and his currant condition before letting them in briefly, which they all had practically choked listening to. Hearing their carefully lined words to spell that her brother had been sexually assaulted, made her almost pass out right there. 

But nothing could prepare her to seeing him like that. His arms, chests and torso were plastered covering from the view but there were black and blue marks all over... and cuts and scrapes. Feverishly pale, half of his face was swollen and looked practically blue. Lips split  with black and blue patches giving him a strange look from the cherub and handsome features she is so used to see looking at him. His eyes were red and blotchy with crying - she had a glimpse from the door as he had broken down on their mother and wanted nothing but to rush in, which she hadn't... wanting to give some space- After that he seemed to have drained out of everything, frail almost. He had not even looked up when she, Des and Robbin had walked in... staring to aimless distance as if he does not know or care where he was.

The Doctor had called them out then, letting the nurses take over, and to continue to explain the condition he was in. Gemma wanted to walk out, to not to hear any of it,  but she knew she does not have an option , though her head screamed enough. She has to know what Harry had gone through, even if it ripped her heart to pieces. She wipes her eyes looking at her crying mother, distressed father and step father... _why did this ever meant to happen?_

"He's all black and blue... he's bleeding- and and he's not responding at all to us though he seemed to be awake.  Please be truthful with us. What had they do-ne to him?" Des asks his voice cracking in the end. Anne presses her hand to her mouth, closing her eyes as Robin tightens his grip on her shoulder.

Dr. Stevens carefully nods.

"I would not lie to any of you. Harry had gone through severe ill-treatment. According to the medical examinations there are several abrasions and lacerations along with bruises on back, neck, chest, genitals and face. He had been beaten and subjected to, - I don't want to be deceivingly light about this, - he's been subjected to torture ... assaulted sexually and physically - I am sorry but there is no easy way to put it. He will need time to heal. His wounds need extensive care same as his psychological state. To get him back to normality, we first need to heel his body. Some of his wounds had self healed but some are infected due to the time period they had been left without treatment. We would be able to restore the most of the skin fully with time, but he will need much more time to heal mentally, regain his normal self. He might act different, that is to be expected though I do have another issue I want to talk about- "

The Doctor pauses for a bit as Anne sobbed on to Robbin with squeezed eyes. Gemma, tries to wipe away her tears, face heavy and mind torn... They had been told about the rape before, but after seeing is face and broken body, she could not even begin to understand how he could have gone through all of that - her baby brother, her other half. How and why? She effortfully keeps from crying loud, letting her vision get blurred and tries to listen to the doctors words.

"-The thermal wounds on his chest and torso are of second degree burns mainly, but there are few third degree burns as well. They would also need extensive resting and treatment including regular dressing changes and antibiotics."

The doctor crosses his arms on his chest, his face grimmer and Gemma feels almost panicked to see such graveness. What could possibly be worse than the list of things the doctor just read out of his mind?

"The reason I had to explain all this to you is due to another reason. Another issue that will directly effect his healing... that he had been forcefully injected with some substances which he had become depended  without really being aware of it."

"Depended?? ... What do you mean depended? what substance?"

Gemma tries to wipe her eyes as Des repeats, his voice almost too heavy and trembling. Anne looks up, still leaned to Robin with a new found confusion and fear. Gemma felt her ears pound even faster, looking at the calm but worried face of the doctor.  

"Your son have been diagnosed with an addictive substance for about thirteen days in regular  basis and his body, though for a short time  had developed a dependency for it due to the extensive period and quantity he had been kept under it. You may have already noticed a difference and he surely must have had experienced few episodes of his body urging for a supply. He is currently going through muscle pains and cramps and it is the reason for unusual sweating and feverishness. We had to minimize the pain relieving drugs supplied to his system  because of that, though we had an emergency last time which might have postponed the detoxification a bit further. However the main thing is that he would have to go through an complete detoxification treatment as soon as possible, maybe starting hours from now to get his health back."  He says with a cautious seriousness looking at all of their horrified faces. 

Harry had been pumped with drugs forcefully? Was it pills? was he injected?... dependent? Is that why he looked so pale, feverish and thin? Gemma feels lost as Robin raises his voice for the first time.

"What... wh-at...what had they used -?" his voice sounds raspier similar to Harry's for some reason- he rubbed Anne's arm as she continuously sobbed to his shoulder.

"A substance that we call Diamorphine, or more commonly known as... _heroin"_

Gemma feels as if passing out. Heroin? depended? detoxification? it does not make any sense...

"I know it's a lot to take after seeing him in the condition but he seem to have passed the 8 hour period after he was last induced with the substance and he had been showing withdrawal symptoms even at the time of the raid... it had been controlled by some medications to an extent but withdrawals are going to hit him soon and intensify within two - three days time. By five to six days it will be over and done. I'm not going to lie to you... it's going to be a hard ride for him. It will be like a terrible case of flu. Given his other injuries that needs immediate attention, it's going to be harder for him than a normal addict. And we would have to limit his bodily movements for his skin to mend and heal. But there will be no other possible way for him to get through the withdrawal... We will diagnose him with medication to suppress pain, but it doesn't mean that he will not feel it. We would make the transformation as comfortable to him... and we requested him to name a person to stay with him for any emotional support that he may need in these coming days-'

"I'll stay with my baby.." Anne speaks through her tears. "I will be there... I will-"

"He was reluctant to have anyone in the beginning saying he want to be alone. When we explained the importance of a supporter, he agreed to Mr. Liam Payne, his band-mate and friend. And as his doctor I think it's a good choice given that he's aware of Harry's condition. Also I suppose it is better to let him have his way."

"I can look after him... he's my baby...-" Anne cries, pain pumping through her each word ... "I can... why won't you let me. I ...-"

"I am sorry Ma'am but we have to give the decision to him in order make him comfortable. Also due to his condition it is better if the person by his side is not a family member. It might be hard for the both parties to-"

"We understand..." Robin cuts in hugging Anne as she cried hard, shaking her head unable to restrain anymore.

" _Why would they do that to my baby... he haven't done anything to anyone ... What had he ever done to anyone to go through this, Robin?... My baby ...why..? I don't understand...'"_

 The Doctor nods and gestures the two men before leaving for four of them to have a moment.

Door to Harry's room is closed and Gemma knew he is alone in there. Is he a sleep or awake? She wished that she could just go in and hug him as she's so used to... he gave the best hugs in the world even if it was him who needed her comforting most of the times. But now she could not just go in and do that. He had not even looked at her, nor any of them when they went in.

Anne keeps crying aloud. Gemma knew how attached she is to Harry and how he loved her back. She cannot imagine what their mother must be going through seeing him like that... hearing things about him like that... and knowing that there was nothing they could do to make any of it go away. Tears were pooling down from her eyes, pouring like rain as Gemma feels her father wrap his arms around her, his face in a devastation she had not seen in his entire life.

.............

 

 

 

In the white hollow room, Harry stares at the empty white ceiling aimlessly.

His head feels heavy and empty the same time... feverish, his body throbbed beyond consoling, but he just lays there without moving - letting it burn.

After howling and crying for hours in his mothers' arms, he felt so spent and weak that everything seemed blank to him. He feel wrecked, and broken. Deep down, he longs just to shut down... feel nothing... He craves for a numbness - a nothingness that he feels comfortable with... he yearns for something to sting his arm and make the pain disappear.

Even after breaking down to crying, nothing seemed have lifted. An invincible bruise burning inside him kept throbbing, stinging. He felt crippled, numbed. He wished he could talk ... ask them of Zayn. And if Liam and Niall are well... if they know about Louis..., but he doesn't.

He couldn't.

Harry closes his eyes, wishing if he could fall a sleep. But his body is refusing to give him that sort of a comfort. And something seem to ignite in him with every passing moment, spreading cramps into his limbs every now and then. But he does not react, just bears it, laying there like a crippled mutt.

He feels he should.

It's nothing but what he deserves. He does not deserve to be here on this bed... being treated out of his wounds... not when he had failed to save him. It's all his fault.

He breathes through his mouth as if his nose was too blocked. _He can't go through with any more pain... he knew. But his arms could almost feel the stings of each and every needle that touched his skin... obliviously for moments, he craved to feel the same high... feeling of nothingness, freedom from pain and hurt.... he craves. But it is an illusion... the doctor had explained to him... right? He is to fight it - even through pain... though he knew that he can not go through with pain anymore... he would rather die... What has he ever done to go through this much of pain? pain and hurt...?_

_\- "You know what"... a smug voice answers his in his head. A voice which he thought he would never hear... a voice he knew will always haunt him forever.  
_

He tries to surpress panting. But he gives up then. Why should he ... when it's no use? would Louis forgive him? Ever? " _H_ _ow could he... when he's no more?_

" _I'm Sorry'"_ he mumbles in a hollow voice, to the silent empty room. _"I'm so sorry"_

Does anyone know that he is awake?

They better not... he would rather see no one. They all know what they had done t him ... and what he, Harry had done to Louis...

He had felt unsettled ... naked and exposed to be in the same room with his family before for some reason... even Gemma.

 _Had his mother seen Jay yet? Does Jay know that he is the reason Louis was dead?_ Harry closes his eyes not wanting to look at the faces of his mother or sister... nor his father nor Robin though they were not in the room.

He wish he could fall asleep... though the sleep seemed far away.

His head keeps throbbing. What would they think of him if they knew that _he_ bound him and fucked him to the bed like a pathetic bitch? What would his mum or sister  feel if they knew that they passed him around like a some cheap whore and that he couldn't do anything to make them stop?

_And ... do they knew that he was the bloody reason he... died?_

The reason Louis was drugged until he could not talk? move? breathe? Do they know that he failed to save him? That he couldn't bear the pain that he told them about Louis? If he had refused longer ... told _no_ a little bit longer, Louis would still be alive. He knew. He does not deserve to be here on this bed... being treated out of his wounds... not when he had failed to save Louis. It's all his fault... his fault.

There was no hiding from it. No slipping through the reality. 

He is the reason Louis had died.

He is the reason...

He wanted to hide, disappear - But he knew he could not ... he knew.

Something claws at his heart inside... and keeps clawing at it making him want to spit blood.

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here you go. Yes, Louis is still alive but Harry doesn't know that yet. And you might feel a little confused with the way Harry's mood and thoughts swings. The reason is the drugs... he is still under the influence and he needs to get out of it soon.  
> well hope this is not too bad. Please leave your thoughts


	15. Cracks on Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam tries to endure as Harry struggles with detoxifying.

**15. Cracks on Surface**

  

The first time Liam sees Harry after the rescue, he is still unconscious ... and it had been with Niall.

Knowing how desperate they were all along, Anne had let them in as they stood fidgeting at the door, drowning with nerves and impatience ... They did not want to intrude the the Styles family (including Robin of course)  but this is Harry they are talking about.

Both Liam and Niall had walked in, hesitating, not sure what to expect or how to digest whatever they are about to see... and had stood there watching the unconscious form on the bed with hands pressed to their faces and tears welling in their eyes.

Harry looked like as if he had been run over by a freaking truck... With bruise after bruise laced in his skin as if he just came out of a bloody scraping machine... they could hardly recognize him to tell the truth. He looked so ill, and pale, plastered and patched all over. Gruesome red marks were staining his once unmarred skin amid all the white bandages. It had almost made Liam's stomach lurch ... gashes, burns cuts, black and blue all over, even his half swollen face. His head spined when he saw the covered parts of the tattoos on the skin ...why are they covered? could they be healed? would they leave scars? 

Once stepped out, both of them had just sat down on the floor by the door  outside of Harry's room, unable to process or admit that it was Hazza that they just saw. His ill, unconscious form imprinted in their mind like a nightmare they could not forget.

 

The second time Liam visits him, Harry is awake... and he had agreed to have Liam with him through his withdrawal period.

The look Harry has in his face when Liam enters the room, tailing the doctor, is something Liam would not forget in his life. Harry eyes him like a deer caught in a trap, wanting to run but too bruised even to get up. There are no tears or words, he stares at Liam as if he is embarrassed to be so weak. More than anything there a sinister but 'lost' kind of a vibe in his look, mixed with a strange guiltiness behind his gaze which Liam could not quite understand... On top of it, seeing Harry so  bruised is not the easiest thing to bare - which leaves Liam cringing every moment in the beginning. It feels strange at first, even to find a single word to say. 

The doctors grant two days for things to settle down before they start with the complete detox process on Harry. Mainly for him to regain a bit of strength and then to get used to Liam's presence. And Liam tries... tries his best - to find words to reconnect - talk at least, since the moment the doctor leave them together. But it feels like talking to a statue at first, because Harry rarely seem to respond.

Liam knows that he is the last of Harry's bloody concerns. On top of reoccurring nausea and vomiting, Harry was in pain. Liam knew he had gone through several operations to stop internal bleedings upon his arrival, and some of his fractured bones were on mending. Above all, the treatments to the bruises and the burns seems to be the hardest. But Harry refrains from crying aloud, biting  his tongue and griping at sheets with white knuckled grips though the tears pours out silently as the nurses cleans and replaces the bandages and dressings sucked in to his damaged skin thrice or twice a day.

As painful as it must be, Liam suspects that Harry is trying to not cry out in front of him... holding it off because he is there.

It makes Liam helpless -, desperate even. He keeps trying to make Harry feel comfortable in his presence... as he used to be.

He talks bits and pieces of everything that had been going on, carefully avoiding anything about the kidnap, management, the boys and the so called accident as doctors had advised. Instead he carefully chooses supportive get well wishes from friends and fans... reads light articles out of news papers and magazines whenever he looks to be in better moods. Harry seem to rarely pay attention but Liam feels  Harry is listening bit by bit... at least time to time. He even manages to get a slightly thin line of a smile reading some ridicules dry joke about a racoon or somewhat, which Liam thinks the doctors should praise him about... 

But Harry seem to keep zoning out; sometimes startling out for no reason, suddenly looking at Liam as if he is a stranger or worse - a bloody reaper who is going to gut him out any moment. He at times tries to hide his welling eyes from Liam _. He is going to get flashes from the past two weeks,_ the doctors had warned him. They had already briefed him of the conditions Harry might go through. So Liam tries to distract him as the doctors advices him to - to not to leave him to his thoughts when the pains go down. In the end, Liam, even to his own surprise, starts  reading Harry some poetry books Niall dumps over to his hands, telling that they are Harry's favourites. Liam had been complaining to Niall over the phone about not being able to get Harry's attention, feeling like an idiot most of the time talking to him self and Niall had popped in suddenly with the books.

Harry tries to listen to Liam read little by little, when he feels well enough to pay attention, eyeing him curiously at times... He even slowly begins to spare a few words with Liam in the end, general things like opening the window or to asking for water and Liam feels much so overwhelmingly happy with himself for getting some words out of him.

But still Harry remains closed as much as he could though, trying to keep a straight brooding face most of the time, but Liam feels much accomplished for some reason.

 

In two days, as planned, the doctors send Harry through full detoxifying treatments... and everything starts to fall apart again.

The withdrawal pains starts with it like a fire, even if Harry does try to hide it in the beginning. But it meant that his bodily sensitivity was increasing and the pains from his injuries were growing like a virus in blood. Harry would not be able to pretend he is fine for long... Liam knew, and he wishes that Harry would open up to him by choice, not by vulnerability. But the pains worsens gradually in three days and it flushes out any feelings of awkwardness in Harry completely, to much of Liam's dismay... leaving everything he had been trying to hide to open, and be exposed ... both physically and mentally.

And Harry started to seek for Liam's company then, as if he is desperate not to be left alone.

In a way it is as same as a worse case of a flu...

Harry suffers continuously with a swinging body temperatures, shivering and sweating at the same time. His muscles and joints seem to be on fire, resulting constant wimping and groaning which Liam feels ringing inside his ears even if he stepped out of the room.

Though the pains were controlled by medication to a point, it is not like using pain killers to cut the pain. The nurses would inject him with doses of methadone to keep the pains down just bearably, pushing his body to the extents which Liam couldn't imagine.

Harry seem to be loosing control literary... mentally and physically...

He had no control over the excessive bodily fluids produced by his body... sweat, tears, urine and even a constant runny nose. He gets continuously hit by severe stomach pains and the worst case of diarrhea with the instability of the digesting system the drugs had caused. Vomiting and nausea is the same, residing Brianna, the nurse right in the room.

Coupled with deep anxiety and insomnia Harry is often left teary on top of the aches. Not that Harry openly started talking, but he does not try to hide his pains or sudden flashes that keeps haunting him like he previously did... more like he could not. He runs his hands on his arms, pinching them over numerous blackening marks which Liam had a fair idea to be scars from needle stings. Harry swears under his breath at first and then a loud... he begs Liam to make it stop and cries at someone (which Liam was pretty sure who) to give him something to make it stop. His words were only hard to understand ramblings most of the time though.

Harry's mood kept changing - from depressed to anxious to irritated to desperate and still Liam feels there is something that is stinging at him inwardly beyond just dysphoric effects of the freaking  withdrawal. But with the maddening pain Harry's going through, there is no way Liam could find out what it is that making him tear off his hair time to time and cry as if somebody had bloody died. Maybe Harry was zoning out, getting flashes or just hallucinating out of fever... Liam assumes.

The worst of all were the injuries that are up for treatment.

With Harry being even more sensitive to the pain, the treatment times becomes a nightmare; where the nurses had to change and redress the burns and infected gashes twice a day. Harry was not strong enough to hold back the pain any longer. He screams and cries openly, biting down to his own elbow. In the second day, Liam has to help the nurses to hold him down at a point. Harry had refused his treatments that day the moment he had seen the nurses come in through the door. He had practically begged Liam to not to let the nurses in, but Liam knows that it is crucial that Harry received the scheduled treatments. As heart wrenching it is to watch him in the state, Liam had bitten down his tongue and assisted the nurses as they requested, tears trickling down his own face. Afterwards Harry had refused to even look  at Liam's face for about two hours to much of Liam's dismay.

It had been the worst day so far and he hoped to god that it would not repeat again. But the third day, at the height of withdrawal, the morning session becomes far... far worse than he could have ever imagined.

Harry had not slept the entire last night even for a bit... and neither had Liam. Harry had been moodier and more depressed than the entire last two days combined... even the pains and aches seemed to be higher with constant throwing up. The nurses had given bags after bags of saline due to the high amount of fluid his body was refusing to keep in. Liam had spent the entire morning beside Harry, running his fingers lightly through his head and hair time to time as Harry had held on to Liam's other hand  not letting go, moaning and sobbing out of the pain and weariness.

When the nurses steps in for the dreaded treatments though, Harry doesn't struggle as Liam or Brianna expects. He sobs even harder - and louder... It makes it all much worse, because Liam knew that if Harry's able, he would run havoc to get away from the pain. Because he couldn't, Harry seem to let them have their way.

He lets them sit him up and peel off the old plasters, trying his best to not to howl...

But halfway through cleaning and redressing the burns, Harry suddenly starts struggling and panicking unlike anything Liam had seen before.

Fidgeting and shaking with horror filled terrified eyes, it seems like he is dropping in to another dimension. Starts to fight off the nurses like a cornered animal, his body starts jerking and kicking at them  as if they are about to strangle him. Liam could just watch, breathing to the pit of his arm through shaking lips. His bile rises dangerously as Harry's hyped up self struggles blue murder. It is as if he is hallucinating on something that happened before.

"NO... PL..EASE.. let me go ... ple...ase-"

Liam almost feels near to pass out, his exhaustion and the devastating scene before him finally making him reach his limit. His ears feels numb with the screaming. Liam had never heard Harry pleading like that... ever...

"Take a break, Liam... Take a break... Go. Now! It's OK! We got him." Brianna, shouts looking up at Liam's sweating pale face, bodily holding the withering boy down, while the other two nurses start pulling up the restrains as the last resort, not wanting to let anything tear off the mending skin.

"No...le-ave me alo...ne... n..o.. no... hur-ts ...PLEA-..SE... nah!!! FU-CK N- oOh!!" he howls, thick tears leaking freely down the cheeks as the nurses secures him to the bed, limiting his movements. Agonizing and gut-wrenching cries erupts through Harry, in his subconscious form. The uncovered nasty burn wounds glistens in angry red on his chest and torso with blisters.

"NO..no-no-no please NO!!" Harry whines, tears still streaming down like rivers... tugging at the restrains uselessly. He shakes his head frantically, fisting the sheets with his hands. Unable to withstand the scene anymore, Liam coughs to the uncomfortable rise in his throat.

"Out! ... Go! Now!!" Brianna shouts again, running her hand gently through the fan of long curls as Harry jerks his head off, mind still in a different layer of existence.

With a one more look at the pitiful restrained form on the bed, Liam leaves the room for the first time since three days... almost tripping on his steps.

 

The magnetic door close behind him slowly... he runs ignoring the strolling nurses and doctors looking at him in the corridor, down the stairs and passing the lobby.

He vaguely hears someone calling his name but does not stop. He finds the rest rooms and practically kicks out at the door and falls next to a bloody marble commode, throwing up whatever that came out. He had not been eating much but whatever he did,  he throws up - all of it.

His panting breaths and coughs fills the empty cubical. He waits like that as long as it all goes away... not realizing his eyes are tearing until he sits back, leaning to the wall behind. He just stares at the glossy white walls aimlessly, listening to the dull knocking and someone calling his name in a concerned tone.

Eventually the door opens slowly, and a pair of blue jeans and white sneakers peeps in slowly.

"Pyno? ...You OK?"

Liam gazes up to meet Niall's darkening blond hair and worried eyes .

Making a huffing sound through his nose Niall slowly reaches and flushes the toilet... letting the water wash away whatever is in there. Air around the cubical gets fumed again, something between lavender and vanilla. Liam doesn't move as Niall crouches down beside him, crossing his legs. Resting his  chin on both his hands, he stares at Liam with unblinking eyes, silently indicating that he is there if he needed to talk.

Niall knew it hasn't been easy for Liam to be in that room, witnessing whatever horrors Harry is going through even though he agreed to stay with him during the withdrawals without any second thoughts. And within these past few days Niall had seen Liam get wearier and wearier, seeing Harry in his lows. Harry had not been approved visitors yet, being in the height of his withdrawal. Only Anne and Gemma or Niall peeped in when ever Harry was asleep... , which by now has gotten less frequent.So Niall had only been in Harry's room few times after the very first time... only while he had been sleeping, which were on rare occasions. Only occasions which  Liam had time to visit the other two boys while Niall sat in a corner filling for him - trying to not to be shocked by how weak and spent Harry looked in his sleeping form.

When they first got to know Harry's and Louis' the conditions, both him and Liam had been dumbstruck. Particularly hearing Louis is in a coma... lifeless and oblivious to everything around him. It had shocked them to see him attached to machines, laying on the bed as pale as a sheet. But seeing Harry had been the hardest... all marked up and plastered as he had been in a gruesome accident for real. Who could have done that to another human being?... let along someone who is nothing but a quirky kid. Someone who would not hurt a fly, if anything else.

When the doctors had explained to them about Harry's condition with drugs and withdrawals on top of everything, they had both practically lost it.

Truthfully, Niall had felt a little left out and envious that Harry had chosen Liam over him. Yet after setting eyes on the version of the boy he knew, all plastered, weak and wounded up in his sleeping form, Niall could guess why. Harry had always been a private person, and it is understandable that he did not want anyone to witness what he is going through if he could help it. Maybe Harry wanted someone who could pretend to act normal when the hell fell down... But even Liam who has always been best at doing that, seems to be failing.

 

"How's Louis?"

Liam asks wiping down his face... He looks paler than usual, Niall notices.

Liam had not been able to visit Louis since three days back. With the zero amount of sleep Harry got since days before, Liam had stayed with him day and night. Even he had been able to visit Louis just once for a brief time after he gained consciousness, Liam had not been to see him anymore. 

Louis had woke up some four days back, to much of everyone's relief.

He had suffered with a temporary amnesia and confusion at first, sending Jay and each and every one of them to a panic But now, he seem to be recovering, gradually **.** With an excess amount of heroin injected and the dosage of Valium pumped in to his system it had been a bloody miracle that Louis survived, the doctors had said. They were all sure that Moth or Nick or whoever the man is, was aiming for the kill... and nothing else. Liam still refuses to think what would have happened if Alex and his team didn't reach the warehouse on time - waiting for the bloody criminals to tell them where to find the boys.

Doctors had pumped Louis' stomach, removing the unabsorbed drugs and cleaned his system. Louis was getting better slowly... returning back to normality at least physically, though he suffered from a worst case of nausea and dizziness. He was weak and his balance had been off when Liam visited him, as same as his temper. Louis had been silent than he had ever been though... apart from grilling for Harry's condition, he had not spoken with anyone more than a word or two.

But with a near death experience like that, could anyone blame him?

 

"Moody... as usual" Niall says dropping his head down. "And angry. Insisting he wants to see Harry. His discharge is due tomorrow."

Liam nods his head. How on earth are they going to stop Louis coming to see Harry once he's discharged? he did not have a clue. 

"Zayn?"

 

"Worried - and drawing" Niall adds with a sigh.

Which means Zayn hadn't come out of his shell yet, barely speaking with anyone, probably apart from Niall or Liam when he managed to visit him. Liam makes a mental note to ask Mrs. Malik to pick Zayn's  cintiq  from his bags the next time she visits.

"Think he'll be discharged this week as well, with his bloody plaster." Niall looks up again clasping hands on his lips as if calculating Liam's face. "You look terrible." he adds.

Liam lets out a weary sigh running both his hands over his face.

"It's getting bad... really really bad. I just wish it will end soon, for his sake." Liam doesn't care when his eyes starts welling up again. He doesn't even bother to wipe them off.

"Zayn thinks that they had sort of kept him drugged from the beginning, without letting him dry out - or he would not have got this bad within such a short time even with Heroin."

"I don't know what they have done to him to tell the truth, Niall ... just...he's - he's traumatized and - and he keeps zoning out... I feel sometimes that he doesn't know where he is, you know... he ... I - I don't know - sometimes he acts as if ... if even I am about to strangle him right there ... He was kicking and fighting off the nurses like they are going to cut him open just now."

Liam presses his hand to his throbbing forehead as Niall takes a hold on Liam's arm.  "There are bloody cut marks  in his body that reads Modest, Niall... carved in like ... I - I don't know .... h- he must have been so scared, Niall, alone and... I ... I  cant even imagine."

Niall does not say anything but sighs heavily. Even the thought of it made something clench uncomfortably in his stomach. Will Harry ever be the same again? Will they ever see the quirky silly lad who thought knock knock jokes would be funny enough for their fans to crack in a sold out stadium?

Will they ever going to get their friend fully back?

 

Niall keeps studying Liam's face, which looks tired and shaken. His hair is a mess and there are bags under his eyes with lack of sleep.

"When did you last eat?" He asks after a good amount of time.

Coming out of his seemingly pensive, Liam shrugs and closes his eyes and rests his head back on the wall.

"I'm going to order you some food... would you...d'you want beer?" They were not allowed alcohol in the hospital, but Liam looks like he needed something strong.

Liam shakes his head with a weary sigh. "Just get me a coffee. I can't eat-"

"Pyno you're starving yourself. It won't-"

"I have to go back" Liam says fluttering his eyes open and letting out a long sigh. He runs both his hands as if to wipe away his tiresomeness.

Niall just stares at him, mouth shut. What's the use in arguing?

"I have to go back..." Liam repeats as if it will clear off Niall's stare.  "He'll panic if he sees I'm gone when he wakes up or whatever, Just get me a coffee, alright?"

Liam gets up and reaches the row of sinks. Niall watches as Liam splashes handfuls of cool water to his face, letting it all drip down carelessly. Holding the marble sink, he stares at his own reflection in the mirror before turning and  sparing a gaze at Niall, who hadn't moved from his spot, staring back at him.

"I'll see you around." He says dragging his feet  out of the room, messing Niall's hair lightly as he passes him out to the lobby with a wet hand.

Niall does not stop him. Trying to baby Liam Payne when he's not up for it is like suggesting your older brother to wear a bloody skirt... which will end up with you wearing it eventually. So he lets Liam go... Harry surely needs Liam right now more than Liam needs Niall...

"Tell him I'm itching to see him" Niall calls behind, to which Liam just gestures with his hand without looking back.

 

 

Stepping out to the white lobby, Liam spots Eleanor. She looks as if he was waiting for someone to come out but her eyes turns curious as she sees him. Maybe she is waiting for Niall. Was she with him when Niall came in? Did she hear them? 

She looks tired, and as if the past few days had taken more than the sleep out of her. With Louis being all cross with everyone after waking up, Liam could understand her ordeal. She is his girlfriend in the end of the day, right? 

El looks at him expectantly and questioningly. Liam doesn't stop though... he offers her a simple weary smile signing that he has to go, and continues walking towards Harry's room again. He does not wait to see if she smiled back or not...

 

 Walking along the corridor, Liam wonders if the nurses calmed Harry down or if they had to sedate him to stop the struggles. The door to Harry's room opens as he draws nearer, and a nurse he can't remember the name, comes out. She nods calmly at his worried stare.

"He's OK, He's been asking for you." She says, quietly. "Bree's with him. We had to increase his methadone dose, he's a bit slurred, but much better now."

She holds the door for Liam to walk in.

He tries to keep the sound to the minimum as he goes in. Brianna is beside Harry, lightly talking to him. Almost all the bed restrains hung loosely from either side of the bed except for the one securing the hand with the IV drip. Liam's insides cringes looking at it for some reason.

Harry looks even wearier, and smaller. He looks as if he is drowning in a pile of white sheets, which are drawn down to waist. His bandages were off revealing the red and raw burn wounds on the skin, cutting off several parts off the famous butterfly tattoo and the ferns. Rest of his pale skin looks clammy and his hair is drenched with sweat. With swollen and dazed eyes, his lips are bitten red. Liam did not want to think about the screams and cries the room might have echoed with moments before.  Is it just him or had Harry grown even thinner in these past two days?

"There you go," Brianna says smiling, looking back. "Liam's back. You can get rid of me now. I'll be back in a minute with the bandages... And we'll get you a bit cleaned up. right, love?" Smiling, Brianna gets up and lightly pats Harry's head, earning a weary and marginal smile.

She stops by Liam and grips his arm,

"Are you OK, love?"

"Yeah... I'm sorry- I just-"

"No . No. No need to be sorry, I know it's hard to see him like that."

"His dose was increased?" Liam asks, eyes on Harry who looks at him behind the nurse.

"Yes, he's fine for now. Bit of a break for him as well. The pains will return gradually... within an hour or so. He was kicking around and the bandages got drenched. I'm going to fetch some new ones. I'll be back soon. We'll keep the belts for the IV attached hand... it's more secured. He almost ripped it off."

She turns and takes a glimpse of the boy in the bed. "His temperature is rising up a bit strongly, so be on check. Let him rest, but talk to him, make sure his head doesn't wonder off too much. Let him know you are here, OK?" Liam nods as Brianna whispers. "I'll be back, but I think he'll appreciate some time with you... he's getting sick of our nicely fitting uniforms." She smiles to lighten the mood.

Liam lines a thin smile as she squeezes his arm again as she leaves.

 

Liam slowly steps towards the bed as Harry yawns with sleep heavy eyes, still trying to keep the focus on him.  Liam knows Harry won't fall asleep though. It is just an effect of the withdrawal and the treatments.

"Hey" Liam says gently, running his hand slowly over the arm still strapped to the bed. Harry's eyes grow slightly  glassy, his lips turns upwards marginally.

"Hey" his lips lines, though the voice is barely audible - raw and weak, as same as he looks.

Liam just wishes he could just hug his fragile form, but he is too scared to either startle him or crush his wounds. So instead he drags the  chair  closer and sits, leaning forward. He runs his thumb over Harry's temple slowly, almost wincing at the burning heat of the skin. Stale green eyes watches him emptily, almost paying attention to Liam ... dazed and battered, he looks fed-up out of wits.

"- loo-k tired." Harry says still eyes on his face "-you sh-ould re-st" his voice is small and slow.

Liam smiles, "I'm all right... you get better first, then I'll let you play Niall on me"

Harry doesn't react to that,  just stares. Maybe it's the case that it is the first time Liam mentioned anyone apart from the nurses.

"He's got the mummy shoes on... trying to feed me up." Liam smiles nervously. He just wants to lighten whatever Harry is feeling. Harry just looks at him, blinking slowly.

Silence drags for a bit as if Harry wanted him to say more. But he doesn't.

 

"W-wh...ere's he...?" He asks then almost awkwardly. His tone is glum but he holds his stare on Liam's face. There's a hint of a fear in his face.

"Strolling around... I think. He's the one who sent you your poetry stuff you know. Think you're growing up on him, or else how could he know how to pronounce Bukowski?"

Harry spares a weary smile at that.

"He even sent you some aroma candles but Brianna did not approve of them." Opening a bedside locker Liam takes out a fumed candle as Harry gazes at it without moving.  "The lad is itching to see you... not kidding, his own words. Met him moments ago, believe me... Zayn and Tommo's not enough for him. You are his mood fix box."

Harry's eyes just flutters for that, stilled on the candle in Liam's hand. Liam slowly runs circles on the pillow next to Harry's head, watching Harry's free hand slightly twitch.

"Zayn's still on the bed but he's getting there... you know..- and -eem... Tommo might swing around as soon as he gets his discharge card.... maybe tomorrow ... He's eem... he's been asking about you-"

Liam carefully touches Harry's sweat drenched head as Harry's sunken, but wide eyes stares at him glassily. His face starts tensing up -  eyes fluttering, lining a crease between angular eye brows.

Did he say too much? Was it a bad idea to mention Zayn and Tommo?

But what good would it do if Louis just dropped in tomorrow? Doctors won't be able to stop him... This is Louis they are talking about.

Isn't it better to let Harry know, than driving him to a panic attack with a sudden appearance? He presses on Harry's head gently. Liam could see his Adam's apple blob as Harry swallows several times. Even his breaths seemed to have quickened.

Was this a bad idea? Was it normal or does Harry seemed to get even paler?? and scared?

"Niall might or might not be in a strop with you for not letting him in you know... for choosing me," Liam tries, wanting to lighten up whatever is making Harry tense. "You can bake him a Irish bread or something to get away with it you know ... as you always do."

 He tries to smile but Harry doesn't smile with him... He keeps gazes at him as if he'd seen a ghost, swallowing with effort as if he was about to say something  but doesn't altogether.

Liam is about to ask him if everything is alright, but in the next moment the room door opens with Brianna and another nurse carrying rolls of bandages.

 

"Hello again, loves. Lets get you cleaned then!!" Brianna announces, starting to arrange the bandages in the side.

"Liam, Mr. Horan told me that you had skipped your meals today. Would you do Harry darling here a favour and go stuff your tummy a bit, please? He can't have you distracting him with a growling stomach, right honey? Niall's waiting in the corridor." Brianna says sounding like a annoyed hostel warden and winks.

"I'm all right"

"No. No. Don't give me that. Go. Shoo. You don't skip meals when I'm around. If you don't go immediately, I'll stuff you with porridge left in the kitchens specifically made for ninety six year old Mr. Patrick with his intense liver condition. what do you prefer? "  

 Shaking his head with a grin Liam looks back at Harry.  With a tensed breathing and a twitching lip Harry is still looking at him with a strange expression for some reason. It is as if he didn't even notice the nurses there... maybe the pains are kicking in again. He thought Harry would get to have a bit of a rest. Liam sighs. He would have to come back soon no matter what. Trust Niall to suddenly act the mother hen role.

"I'll be back soon, Ok?" Liam tells Harry, gently touching his bare shoulder.

Brianna comes around with a sympathy filled smile.

"He's safe with me and he'll be as good as new when you come back. So go!"

 

Liam leaves the room for the second time...  this time feeling Harry's eyes follow him all the way out to the room.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there you go. Hope you liked it at least a little bit... Sorry if it sucks but I have been so busy and tired last couple of weeks. Anyway do let me know what you think.


	16. Wounds, Not Healed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is discharged. News breaks, as same as someone else's fury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there... yes I know. I completely lack writers ethics. I've had some stuff going on and literary didn't have much time. Plus got hit by lack of inspiration and too much of reading I guess. I was hoping to finish the part here but it was getting too long and I felt I had to pause it there. Sorry if you've lost interest but if you are still with me, well ride on. 
> 
> Warning for Angst.

 

**16\. Wounds, Not Healed**

 

"Louis, honey... please listen to me." Jay tries, sounding desperate.

She hands over the signed discharge papers to the nurse who leaves the room with caution and turns to her eldest son who is crouched down, tying on his vans silently. Lottie and Eleanor stood in the back...

Lottie shakes her head while Eleanor looks anywhere but at Louis with a unreadable look in her face. It is clear that she is upset, but she keeps her lips sealed.

"Louis, please... List-"

"I - am listening to you, mom. But don't try to stop me, OK? Just don't. Coz you and me both know it's useless right?" He sounds gentle but obvious.

Jay knows that tone of his son too much... he is practically her in that way. Getting up, he reaches for his phone on the bed without looking at any of their faces.

"You need to rest, Louis ... you are not well and neither are they." Jay tries to reason out, not wanting to nag too much. 

Louis looks at her with his phone in the ear, with a simple irritation in his expression which he had not allowed to reach his tone yet. But his patience is reaching the limit. _Where the bloody hell is Niall?_ He thinks listening to Niall's familiar phone tune playing in his ear.

Jay knew it is useless trying to stop him, but... "Louis, You can't walk all the way up t-"

"Hey" Niall's voice rings from the other side. He sounds nervous.

"You coming or shall I just find my way around?" Louis snaps, knowing it is not fair to take it out on Niall. But seriously, if Niall had just come sooner, he could have left.

"I'm out side the room."

"Then why the hell didn't you-" Louis sighs loud "- never mind."

He cuts the line and pockets his phone, looking at El. She doesn't return the gaze. Louis knew he is being stubborn, but he needs to see them. _Him_. No matter in what condition. It is out of the question. Sweeping his hand on his mothers arm he starts towards the door. She follows.

"Louis..."

"I'll be back in no time... just don't make a fuss OK, Mom- I'm fine."

Jay shakes her head with a sigh, as if she's tired of making him a reason. "You know better than me that's not true, Lou. Harry's not approved visitors and his room is in the other block. You can't walk far and-"

"I'm not crippled, OK? I can perfectly walk. I'll be back soon."

He opens out the door to find Niall standing right outside. Niall gazes up at him biting his lip nervously, as if he already heard the conversation. Jay sighs shaking her head looking at both of them.

"All I ask you is to go to the hotel and get some proper rest... we can come tomorrow. Griffith's waiting down the lobby for us, Louis."

"Well he'll have to wait then." Louis snaps practically gritting his teeth. "If he wants me to do the bloody media circus, I'll do it in my own time. He can bloody walk me to the car when I'm walking to the car alright? ...Lets go."

Louis doesn't look back at his mother, nor at Niall. He just walks along the corridor as Niall follows him after a apologetic glance at Jay and the two girls.

In the world of harsh truths, Niall knows that it is impossible to stop Louis at this point. And he knew that Jay, and even El knew that as well, though they didn't want to accept the fact. When Louis told Niall he wanted to see Zayn and Harry, it is not like he could no - especially when Louis' in this mood anyway... edgy and on his toes, ready to bite anyone who would dare to refuse anything to him.

Being the only consistent visitor to both Zayn and Louis since the rescue, Niall knew that being kept apart had been only driving them mad. Though they were able to talk through phones, Zayn craved to see Louis and vise versa. Doctors have not quite approved Louis to be out and about yet, but Niall had been able to convince the nurses to give Louis a pass. Sure, with a little of chatting and desperate eyes Niall had been able to arrange for Louis to visit Zayn without much trouble.

But Harry, however was another question...

When Niall first told Liam of Louis' threat to find Harry in the building with or without their help (regardless of his inability to walk for more than five to ten minutes without feeling nauseous two days back), Liam had downright refused to help. _'Absolutely fucking no!'_ Payno had said when they met up the other day, but in the end Niall had been able to get him agree to let Louis sneak in for few moments when Harry is asleep to avoid Louis barging in forcefully.

Though Louis was not quite happy with it,  he agreed to it none the less... knowing Liam would not budge like Niall.

Niall eyes Louis' silent walking form sideways. Hands in pockets and head down with thoughts, Louis looks slightly thinner in his sweatpants and the red hooded sweater. Gruesome cut marks around his wrists are hidden under white bandages. Weeks old facial hair had been shaved off his face, giving him a sudden younger look contrasting to yesterday. Probably El or Jay insisted on a shave.

Louis actually looks better than last night when Niall left him ... though he looks paler than his normal self. Maybe it had something to do with the shave.

"You alright, today?" Niall asks.

Louis doesn't look up "Not bad." 

"How's the headache's been? you had-"

"I'm fine."

Ok. Niall nods with tight lips. Not in a mood for mucking around then. Louis had not been much patient ever since he woke up actually. Always ready to blow off, irritated or downright annoyed with everyone, including the doctors. Maybe that's why Jay, El and everyone kept pissing Louis off with his terrible moods. Louis had  always been moody and direct when he is sick. They all had the habit of tiptoeing around him when he was in that mood.

"Jay and Lottie are going to kill me for this you know." Niall says this time.

He doesn't mention El for some reason, feeling more guilty when he knew she wanted Louis to go to the hotel with her straight away after the discharge. Siding with Louis did not feel the easiest thing to Niall when the other end is El, actually because Tommo and El had been in the same side for the most part for a long time now... well

"Least you'll have me coming to the funeral."

Louis' tone is nothing like his usual snappy self, just uninterested and distracted. He doesn't even smile nor look up. But it actually feels strange even talking about dying now after everything... Niall feels it even in the dry monotone that is Louis' voice.

"Jay has been complaining that you speak with me more than all the others combined... could you please stop getting me blacklisted in your mum's book?"

"I'd have talked to them more if they didn't go chicken whenever I bloody asked about Zayn and Harry.  It's not them who tried to do me in for fuck's sake."

Few attendants stare at them as they passed. No one appreciated swearing on a hospital corridor it seemed - and well, Louis' voice is a bit loud. Wrong subject apparently... Niall doesn't want to set Louis up, not now. So he shuts his mouth until they land in front of Zayn's room.

 

Zayn was waiting for them when Trisha Malik lets them in, hugging Louis for the longest time. She leaves then, leaving the three of them in the room.

Zayn holds his glum stare to Niall as if to ask how Louis is doing. Niall nods slightly as  Louis makes his way to Zayn, running his eyes along the white plaster still on his ankle. Eyes intense at each other, Zayn lets Louis barge in to his space, hugging tightly around his arms and shuffling Louis' hair.

No matter they talked in the phone, Niall knew how it must be for Zayn and Louis to see each other finally after everything.

Only them two knew exactly what went on there... Them alone.

Manhandled and subjected to the horror of a waiting game without a hint of a reason why, who or where they had been taken, to pray heaven and hell for a missing Harry not knowing what happened to him - to later find him tortured and drugged, and to be separated in the end without a clue of an end game... Niall does not even want to know how it feels or how they are coping with it. But he could see why the snappy and brooding Louis would go all emotional and teary whenever Zayn was in the phone with him in past few days, whispering under his breath as if not wanting any of them to hear. It was the only times Niall had seen Louis remove his mask of moodiness even for a little while.

 

Niall sits on the couch, fiddling with his own phone... letting the two lads talk. He only sweeps his eyes on their way when he can't help it.

Taking the bedside chair, Louis had his head practically on Zayn's shoulder as Zayn held Louis to him. Their voices muffled as same as all the time they talked in the phone these past days. Heavy breathing of both the boys is the only sound in the quite room.

Seeing Louis and Zayn like this brings memories of few years back to Niall. Memories when Louis and Harry split... or actually when Harry left Louis. Louis was in pieces while Harry intentionally avoided them all, maybe too scared to face them. It was Zayn who had enough nerve to break through Louis' anger and devastation to drag him up. Two of them had been closer ever since while Harry slowly partnered with Niall, who was the first to forgive him despite of everything.

It was a stormy time in their career, so they thought, but now after everything it all seemed like a blur... a story of a different lifetime.

 

It is after Niall's phone buzzes with a message from Liam that they get up to leave Zayn. Liam had told Niall that he would buzz him once Harry is asleep, and when they are safe to come. Had Liam told Harry that they would be coming? or are they just sneaking in without him knowing while he's asleep? It actually felt wrong in a way now.

Louis hugs Zayn and walks out without really looking at Niall, who notices bit of tension on Louis's face on top of slightly moist eyes and flushed cheeks, but Niall doesn't say anything.

"I'll come back later." Niall tells Zayn as he lets Louis pass him out of the door

Zayn just nods with an unblinking stare at Niall. There is a mix of worry and sadness in his eyes and Niall wonders if Zayn too feels this is a bad idea.

 

Louis is already a few feet away hurrying along the corridor when Niall follows him closing Zayn's door.

"Could you bloody slow down? Your mom will fry me if I tell her you passed out in the corridor."

Louis just hisses a smile when Niall half expects him to snap at him. But Louis just walks with his head down and Niall doesn't know if it is because he is nervous. They walk and walk, passing rooms, passageways and people. Niall could feel Louis getting wearier, he could practically hear him panting. But he doesn't say anything when Louis speed it up even more. He didn't want to reel him up right now... so he keeps quiet, putting his arm over Louis in a subtle way. Louis doesn't resist nor comment, just keeps dragging his feet ahead.

They walk all the way to the next block which is less busier and silent. Everything looks a bit more hollow and quiet ... there were no flowers, no paintings no nothing but white walls and glass cubical spaces and closed doors. It is as if no one ever comes here... even the few nurses and doctors who passes them has gloomy serious expressions.  It almost creeps Louis out. Is this where they are keeping Harry?

"Where's this" he asks with a frown in his eyes.

"It's a detox facility...' Niall  says, noticing Louis' concern. "Gives you confidentiality if you have enough cash to pay. Wonder who else had walked  around here." Louis bites his lip listening to Niall. "Only approved docs and nurses can come in, plus a requested person by the patient... but Anne requested to let her, Gem and me in since - you know."

Letting go of Louis, Niall halts at a door which has a SP -7 engraved. He eyes Louis who looks back at him biting his entire bottom lip. His eyes looks glassy suddenly, and he seem to hold his breath. Niall pauses, not turning the handle. Would Louis be able to handle this in the first place? Louis had been so stubborn that Niall had no choice but to go with his demands, but now it seems like a foolish idea to Niall. How right is Jay and El or even Liam to argue that Louis needed more time to deal with this whole thing despite of his headstrong self?

"You OK?" Niall asks quietly despite of his regretful thoughts. He releases the handle turning to Louis. "We can just go back if you don't want to do this."

"I'm fine." Louis shakes his head lining a tight smile that disappears as it comes. He looks utterly tensed.

"You sure?"

"Yeah..." Louis says looking up at Niall with another smile that does not reach anywhere near his eyes. "I need to see him."

 Niall nods, though he is not convinced if Louis is truly up for this or not. But at least this will give Louis some peace - or he thinks. He lightly knocks on the door, making the minimum sound possible,   once ... and twice.

It takes some minutes, but Liam opens the door, slowly, only slightly though - peeping out. 

He eyes them both calculatingly and grimly, lingering his eyes on Louis a little longer. The room seems dimly lit. Behind Liam, Brianna,  the nurse pats Liam softly and comes out of the door, leaving Liam still standing behind the door fame. As she passes, she smiles sternly at Niall which meant to be a clear disapproval as Niall feels. She only spares a quick gaze at Louis as she hurries off. How difficult had it been for Liam to convince her to let Louis in to the room?

"Everything Ok?" Niall asks quietly after she leaves, almost whispering.

Looking back over his shoulder Liam steps out of the door leaving the door slightly askew behind him. He eyes them with a clear reluctant expression and sighs.

"Don't wake him up."

"I won't..." Louis says unblinkingly, "I just need to see him" He repeats the same way he did to Niall before.

But both Liam and Niall could grasp the edginess in his tone... desperation as if he is panting due to with lack of air.

With two worried faces looking at him, Louis feels his face heating up from the sides. He couldn't decide if it's the sympathy or something else in their gaze. He does not need pity from anyone... not even from Liam or Niall.

 With another sigh Liam walks backwards, opening the door slightly for them two to enter.

"He's not in a much of a good shape, Tommo." Louis just looks at Liam as he passes him stepping in to the dimly lit room. "Withdrawal pains are going down and today's is slightly better than yesterday but he's pretty weak. I...I don't know if he'll be happy for .... emm - an audience..."

Louis spares a piercing gaze at Liam as he walks to the bed. Liam lets him, holding back at the door with Niall.

 

Louis feels almost detached, trance-like as his feet takes him further near the bed. His heart pounds soundly with each step he takes. He swallows deep, fisting his hands to distract his fogged up head. Louis could almost feel blood rushing to his brain, making him dizzy.

On the bed, covered with white sheets is Harry, head bent to a side he seemed to be in somewhat a drained out sleep. Hair greasy and spread messily on the pillow. Skin almost as pale as the white bedding he is on, he seems so fragile and spent.

Most of the skin that is not covered by the sheets were bandaged and plastered. Every inch uncovered was marked with healing or freshly healed scars and blackening patches... even the slightly parted lips, his perfect pouty wine lips looks bruised and scraped. Swallowing heavily Louis smudges a tear trickling down his own face. It hurts almost as same as seeing him being dragged along the floor and beaten as he trashed and cried trying to reach for Louis... seeing him like this, so scarred, weak and switched off to the world... barely resembling the boy he was. _The flashes come running - pricking his thoughts, electrifying them... the cries, the mocking laughs, screaming words and threats... Harry on the floor panting for breaths as the black clad thugs crashed their boots and fists at him, throwing him around like a discarded, broken doll..._ Louis' stomach turns with an unhappy sound...

Feeling dizzy, Louis reaches for the bed as someone holds him from behind. His knees practically feel like jelly. He lets him be maneuvered out, feeling weaker than the all the past days combined since he woke up in the bloody hospital. He lets the person walk him out of the room, only realizing it's Liam when he puts his arm under his arm-pits and  carries him out.

His breath gags as the first sob comes out of him.

Louis doesn't realize Liam and Niall had taken him to the bathroom in front of Harry's room until he is sat down on the floor. He vomits ... gagging more than anything else. Tears seem to leak silently down his face even after Liam supports him out of the small space... taking him to the corridor  and slowly lowering him to a chair in the waiting area just outside the room. 

Louis still does not protest when a line of sobs starts attacking him this time. He just lets his head fall and let the wrecking breaths consume him for the first time after waking up... letting his thoughts just loosen up as Liam and Niall watch him with worry and adding panic. He feels Liam clutch his shoulder, slightly gripping ... maybe to comfort him but he feels far from being comforted. 

"He's going to be alright..." Liam tries, not knowing what else to say, "- he'll get better."

He watches Louis's red rimmed eyes and shaking shoulders... and the way Louis tries to control himself by biting in to his whitened knuckles stubbornly. Liam does not understand why Louis wants to go through this... to come and find Harry in this state when he knows fully well what to expect. Why would Louis torture himself demanding to see Harry when Harry is practically out of his real self?

Other than hearing that they found both the boys bound in the same room, any of them still did not know what truly went down after Zayn was separated from them. The meeting they had with the agents and Paul were mainly to inform the conditions of the two boys than anything else, which had been the priority at that moment... but it had not given any explanations nor reasons for what went down. Louis had not been up to talking, not even to the officers nor agents and Harry was out of the way of even being questioned. But whatever it was, Liam had a very bad feeling about it because Louis was acting like a bloody she-bear who had lost her cub. And Harry... Harry might have been worse but there was no way to find out what he was going through mentally with a severe withdrawal kicking him in every angle possible. 

Liam and Niall doesn't have a clue how to console him as Louis' moody mask comes off crashing to pieces.

His sobs seems never ending, as the shoulders kept shaking with pools of tears. He grits his teeth and tries to control the wrecking sobs but it seems to hit him harder when he tries. Louis keeps smudging his eyes as if to stop tearing but it all seem to pour right out of him... the pain, the horror, agitation and fear. Right there sitting on a waiting chair in an empty corridor in front of Harry's room, Louis finally comes undone... completely breaking down with a shocked Liam and Niall beside him.   

It is when Brianna comes out and informs them that Harry is waking up that Louis with effort pulls himself together, wiping off his tearing eyes with a little too much force. Even then, tears keep coming down without any hesitation nor heed to Louis' attempts. Liam hugs a fairly reluctant Louis to go inside to Harry... trusting Niall to take Louis back.

'I'm coming back tomorrow' Louis simply states with a foggy cracked tone as Liam crushes him ruffling his hair. Liam does not say anything than looking at him as he releases Louis. It is beyond useless arguing with Louis at this point.

"Is he going to be ok?" Brianna asks Liam calmly, though she looks concerned.

Liam just nods, though he did not have a clue.

 

Later as they walked to the lobby to meet with some of their managing team, including Richard Griffiths, Niall could feel Louis is barely paying attention. He just goes through with everything mechanically, stoic expression on his face amid worried looks from Jay and Lottie. (El had already left for the hotel, as Lottie informs Niall) Niall had sat with Louis for an hour before going down, until Louis was able to control his tearing eyes, calming himself to the brooding self. Niall knows Louis is far from himself the moment when he just nods as Griffith informs him about the cover-up accident and media servicing, sliding it off like just another thing - which is unlike Louis at all.

Louis lets the nurses fake plaster him up to indicate his accident wounds. He just lets everything slide as if he was too tired, too occupied in  his own pensive of thoughts. It does not change even as they were escorted in to the respective cars amid the flashing cameras and reporters who maybe for the first time were not trying to crush them in to the ground.

Griffith smiles at them and so does Niall for the sake of their fans but out of the corner of his eye Niall knows Louis does not even look up.

 

 

....................................................................................................................

 

 

 

 

Locking the black suitcase he places the white paper envelops on top of its leather surface.

Cheques... bills and bills. Fifty million and forty two in cash. All counted and done for. His cut was already in his account, just as requested. Nice and clean.

Leaning back at his chair, Eric sips his scotch with a nagging fatigue.

Why is not he left to peace even with a fortune in his bloody hand?

He should be in Caribbean taking a hell of a vacation!!! But the three word message to his phone blew whatever the peace he thought he had to hell the minute he saw Nicky's name in sender ID few hours back. ( _you at home?_ )

Eric had a perfect sense to figure what to expect next...

So he was not particularly surprised when the security informed him of a profoundly demanding visitor ten minutes back.

_Why did he ever expect this to settle down to his own plans?_

 

The door bell goes off suddenly at his second sip, tearing away the serenity he was trying to hold on to.  Not bothering to button up his shirt he drags him to the door, glass of scotch gripped in his fingers. He urges himself to feel calm before turning the door lock.

Eric pulls the door open... revealing the  black clad figure gripping on to the door frame, head down. Nick does not look up, just walk inside passing him.

 

",the fuck you are still here, Nicky? You should be in Morocco now!" Eric nearly slams the door as Nick stood in the middle of the room without turning. Emptying the scotch in one go, Eric drops the glass  to the side cabinet next to a replica of Rodin's Thinker. It emits a slight echoing sound hitting the metal in the silent suite.

"One spotting and we are all bloody screwed!! Don't even get me started with the fucking game you  pulled in the end. What did you think? That I won't find out??!! Wallace was fuming his butt off for the attention this bloody thing almost got! did you fucking think abou- "

Eric's words were suddenly cut off as Nick turns and slams him on to the wall by the unbuttoned collar with such a force, his face livid and fury shooting like lava. Eric's back hits the hard wall, and for a moment and Nick looks as if he was going to jump on him again. But for some reason he takes a step back consumed with an anger-crazed expression, eyes shooting daggers.

"HE'S FUCKING ALIVE!!!!!" Nick spits shivering, icy eyes emitting red hatred with each word. "How the FUCK IS HE ALIVE???!! HE WAS SUPPOSED TO CHOKE AND FUCKING DIE!!! THE TEAMS ARRIVED EARLY AND TOOK IT OFF!! DID YOU FUCKING TIP THEM OFF???!!!"

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT??!" Eric's deep voice rounds the same loud, half confused and half furious.

With a hiss Nick picks up the remote and switches on the TV and flips through several channels to BBC, reporting a crowded hospital entrance.

" _\- confirmed that everyone had passed the critical stage of the unfortunate incident and would be returning to full strength soon. We are happy to witness Mr. Louis Tomlinson who reported as to be in critical condition-"_

Eric simply watches as the same boy who demanded Styles to be released and fought with Nicky back in the warehouse, gets directed to a tinted car by too many security men and a suited man who possibly could be a one from the Modest team. The boy was visibly pale even in TV and has several plasters covering him.

"How the fuck is the little swine alive??!! I left him to die!!!" Nick shouts over the reporters fake concerned voice. "HE SHOULD BE DEAD!! SOMEONE BLOODY TIPPED BEFOREHAND OR HE SHOULD BE DEA-"

"NO BODY WAS SUPPOSED TO FUCKING DIE,NICK!!!"

Eric shouts back reaching his limit.

He could shoot his ass of a brother there and then only if their mother didn't screech daily, crying her bloody head off like a desperate widow. Only ... only the care he had for his mother saved Nick from getting a bullet to his head in a deserted place by one of his men, Eric could swear to God!

"First Brad and Tomlinson was a close call! Our job was to hold him until the contract was off. Not to bloody fuck a one up and drug the other to wind up. YOU ALMOST JEOPARDIZED THE WHOLE BLOODY PLAN, Nick! Your personal shit could have ruined every bloody thing we worked for months. FUCKING MILLIONS!!! This whole thing would have blasted on our faces if one of those whelps bloody died. Scotland yard, the bloody government, queen and who knows what else!!! Do you have a fucking idea what that would have done? They are international bloody poster boys with freaking spotlights on them. They would have tailed us all the way down if any of them were found dead!!! Did you think about that? AND NO! I did not FUCKING tip anyone!"

Nick just eyes Eric in a disgusted expression, anger clearly weeping through all of his existence.

"He's been screwing his boy all this time!" Nick hisses in a low voice "They were screwing behind the curtains pretending to do chicks when they were bloody faggots just like us. He bloody hid his own fuck boy under his skirt when Danny got rejected because he was a freaking gay!! And he fucked him to think he was bloody useless! HE KILLED DANNY!!!! HE KILLED HIM! AND I WOULD NOT LET HIM GET AWAY WITH IT!!! He's going to suffer and burn like I did!! He's going to pay!!"

"That kid is not gay, Nicky!! He's been in lady's pockets since they fucking started holding mikes. Your fucking paranoia is kicking you on the head!"

Eric tries throwing his arms out... this is insane... _his bloody brother is going insane, again!_ Nick's blood crazed cackle rings aloud and when he looks back at his brother it looks dangerously on edge, psychotic and livid,

"He's fucking gay as same as Danny's dead, Eric. You should have seen his fucking face when he realized I knew. You should have seen the way the fucking brat squealed when I had his bloody twink pumped up... He was living his fucking life all this time when Danny was thrown away to rot! And he ruined him! Ruined my Danny!!! He will fucking pay..."

 

Eric shakes his head running his hand over his.

"You tortured that kid off his head, Nicky.Isn't that enough?" He feels tired, tired of this never ending circle they've been running since two years. He thought he was seeing the end of this, yet he had only blown the bloody ashes to reveal the burning coal...

Nick's pale face contrasts with his greasy black hair and the black leather jacket in an inhuman way.

For a moment Eric fails to see any similarity of this loath and revenge consumed, deathly creature in front him  to the brother he opened the door to years back when he arrived at his doorstep first time in London. The cocky lad with eyes for fortunes he could not reach... the lad who got all of Eric's bosses and bosses of bosses eyeing him with an awe for his ruthless tactics and daring nature... the lad who loved with beautiful prized artistic things... the lad who fell in head over heals for the depths and looks of  the artistic pub singer with high dreams he would fail to reach...

Eric runs his fingers along his face and exhales deep looking at his brother who he fails to recognize at this moment.

Nick stares back... eyes him with dark bloodshot eyes, obsession glistening like cutting crystals upon light.

"I will not stop until he pays for what he did!"' He spits, hisses in a low haunted voice as he could not help it. "I'm going to kill his little fuck boy and he's going to burn himself with it. I'm not leaving England until he throws himself off a cliff to stop going crazy."

Eric just watches Nicks fury pouring face. Wide eyes crazed with hate, Nick glares back at him threateningly as if to dare him to stop him. Deep down Eric knows that it is useless even trying. Nicky had always been the stubborn type, even at younger ages as he remembered him.

If Nicky was after something He would have it... no matter how...Eric knew. There is no stopping him.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it. Some of you might feel that I'm just dragging this. But I had to stop here since this was getting long ... and I needed to post this. Hopefully this part of the story will end in the next chapter. Tell me your thoughts as always.
> 
> I need to edit so many things in this story so I will attempt that after finishing this part of the story. Until next time!!


	17. If Choices Had Feelings... Would You Stay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last of this part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, all my darling darling readers... sorry for keeping you waiting for this long. I had a very busy month with all 7 days of work, so please excuse my lack of timing ethics. This chapter however ends this part of the story. I must warn you this is a bag of grief. so be ready for that. But keep in mind this is not the end. 
> 
> Anyways... dig in and let me know of your thoughts in the end...

 

 

**17\. If Choices Had Feelings... Would You Stay?**

 

 

_Human minds are different creatures._

_Creatures of fault, creatures of habit and creatures of what had been thrown on to it. The choices they take are inevitable results of their own making... intentional or unintentional._

_No two minds would see the same light, no matter how ardently they crave for it... how fiercely they fight for it._

_There is no one line, single answer or one truth , only common ground..._

_  
If you found it - well how lucky... do walk with me..._

_  
If not, well ..._

 

...............................................

 

 

_If he paused and looked back at the span of his life, Louis knew there are moments which are inked to his memory like tattoos on skin.  
_

_They were not all the good and most glorious moments or even the most significant ones,... maybe they were the things that made him feel something in particular, _grounded him to still feel human when everything else seemed  unreal and uncanny_. And for each of these moments, he could remember exactly what he had felt to exact, regardless how long gone those memories were. _

_Like the moment his mother hugged him just after his father packed up and left their small one bedroom house after yet another fight when he was just three... the smug look on Johnny's _face_ when they were in 8th grade as he told Louis to go ahead and kiss him if he wanted, feeling idiotic as Fizzy ranted telling them to imagine if Louis could actually win X factor while in the packed up van on the way to London while Jay struggled to console howling twins with a tired face behind him, being told that they were put in to a band and the way each of them shook with nerves in their first ever performance as Harry kept looking at him as if searching for some sort of an assurance that they were going to be OK, the way his mother gripped his hand and looked at him intensely when he told her that he think he's gay and that he might be in love with Harry, the way Harry used to always grab Louis's hand and put it over him at night when they were on the same bed trying to sleep- making Louis spoon his lanky long body, their very first award with thousands of screams while Harry came _to his wide spread arms_ with a hard blazing gaze in his eyes ... and the same way Harry's eyes gleamed as Louis told him that he is in love with him that night..._

_...Also he remembers the _first time he held Eleanor's hand in public in front of_ Harry... and the way Harry's hand shivered helplessly as he tried to look away as if nothing was wrong.., then the way his heart crouched with jealousy every time Harry's eyes lit up to Grimmy's or Ben's presence... always flirting always joking... - making him want to punch all three of them.  
_

_Their fights - particularly the ones in dim lit hotel hallways where Harry would just let Louis scream at him out of frustration, and several times where it ended up with furious making out sessions. The overwhelming feelings of love, hate, jealousy and ownership he felt over the boy with green wide eyes and lush curls._ _He remembers how he ruined it all in the end, carried away with anger, betrayal and his own ego. How he had gotten his revenge from a place he shouldn't have. The shattering guilt, shame and maddening regret he felt right after he woke up next to the sleeping form of that same Harry who had endured him and his wrongly placed wrath._

_And then... and then the glassy empty look on Harry's face as he asked Louis to let him go... that it was over between them and that it's for the best ..., and the way El' slender hand lightly touched his cheek when Louis asked her not to leave him alone the same night Harry left him in their half destroyed flat...  
_

 

 

_...the moments goes on and on like pictures saved to a memory stick, floating over his mind like random leaves on water. And like the random fallen leaves he does not get a choice or chance to pick or choose the ones that get stuck in the banks... like stings of a thorn under his foot every time.  
_

_Especially the ones he is too reluctant to hold yet too scared to forget -_

_Ones that are too heavy to wallow and too painful to linger,_

_like the recent ones which stirred  his thoughts like a stain which would not come off-_

_Like the way Harry tried to reach him, touch him with a his long bony hand, desperation and utter fear in his eyes as hands grabbed him... dragged him along the floor as he uselessly fought... painful screams and desperate begging mixed with sickening sound of bone cracking and fists on naked flesh...  
_

_The recent ones suffocated him, choked him... still to fresh in his memory like a newly cut wound which had barely stopped bleeding. In the end , everything in the past seemed so irrelevant and meaningless... all the arguments, faults , blames and anger. _Everything that had been ever felt lining up to a time ticking horror and pain - fear for lives, fear for pain and desperation for each other._  
_

 

__Looking back at the span of his life, Louis knows that these particular memories would stay with him forever... haunting him, reminding him- poking him in his every turn for the rest of his life._ _

__And he knows that he would know how exactly he felt in those moments no matter how long the time passes..._ _

........................................................................................................

 

 

 

 

 Laying on the plush, unfamiliar hotel bed, Louis refrains himself from tossing and turning because that would only wake his mother up.

Mind him, she had already woken several times to find him staring at the bloody roof. She maybe expected him to break down, cry like a bitch - surely Niall told her about his break down out side Harry's room- but he doesn't know what to cry for now, or how to.

 With his discharge, rest of the girls and the youngest twins had gone back home to Doncaster with his step father. Louis' Mom had insisted that she stayed with him for couple of more days until he returned to his normal health. Being near her always gave him an unknown warm feeling as if he is with a life long friend, especially when he had been feeling a bit drained out physically... wanting to throw up suddenly and craved a sleep that would not come to him.

So in a way he is glad she stayed.

But in the other way, all Louis wanted was to be left alone.

He knows his mom, Lottie and El are all waiting for him to open up. Especially El... for him to speak up and tell her what happened.

They all wanted him to tell them what he has been whispering with Zayn whenever they  got on the phone together, to tell them what Paul and the agent guy had talked to him about for an hour alone once he got to the hotel, and to tell them why he was to be so hung up on seeing Zayn and Harry in the moment of his discharge.

But he found it hard even to match the words to start - tongue tied with a lump in his throat. It agitated him... their waiting faces and his frozen thoughts. It made him moodier and quieter, keeping his temper at bay.

Knowing his temper, the three of them had started tip toeing around him as if he was going to blow up anytime. It is actually driving him madder because all three of them knew he hated throwing around the bush more than anything. But the funny thing was that Louis knew his temper had nothing to do with any of them to begin with. But how could he explain the fear, the anger, the shock and after shock he had been feeling, being through everything he did ... to just wait and watch as Harry was toiled and teared apart like that while realizing things between them were far from  over... 

El, Lottie or even his own mother... would any of them have any clue or feel even if he did try to explain?

 

The confusion and desperation molded together inside his head was making his stomach turn. One thing is clear to him more than anything in his head. That he is in love with Harry still - bone to bone- and he knew Harry was too. If tears and desperation had a voice, he would have known so long before...

But what is he going to do about it?

I _s it a matter of just telling El that he is still in love with the same boy who he cried about on her shoulder night after night in the beginning, begging her not to leave him?_

_Did she know about the contracts?_

_Did she love him for real?_

_Did he not love her? did  he not care for her?_

_Did she know all along that he was too hung up on Harry to ever leave him forever?_

_Did she know anything at all?_

 

With his mind running haywire, he had no idea what to do or think anymore. And he preferred to keep it shut, because all he seemed to manage to do was to lash out at the smallest cause. Like with El two days back...

El had made a fuss the day before his discharge, when he insisted that he is going to see Zayn and Harry before leaving the hospital, to which Louis flipped. The exchange got heated between them with him lasing out like a total arse ... mouthing her to _leave him the fuck alone,_ when all she did was to be concerned about him. 

She had not tried to talk to him since, Maybe sacred that her protective efforts are merely reeling him up. Maybe she is confused on his sudden heated behaviour towards her without a reason. How could she... when even he could not?

But knowing how his temper worked, she probably knew something is up.

Maybe that's why she insisted on sleeping with Lottie in her room... leaving him alone.

 .....................................................

 

 

 

"I'm going back to the hospital"

Louis announces the next morning to his mom, Lottie and El as the three women sat on the suite's lounge for breakfast.

He had slept till late, or stayed under the warm sheets until Lottie had woken him to eggs and tea, bringing breakfast to his bed.

 

Jay and Lottie looks up at his already dressed form. "You are not driving though..." Jay states, ready to fight. They don't ask why he wants to go back, probably because it won't lead anywhere good.

"I called Paul. Car's already here."

"I could have driven you, you know?" Lottie says, eyes still risen -  as if he just announced he is going skating.

"You are tired enough. Just get a break. I'll be fine."

"As if I'm the one who need rest." Lottie mumbles, shaking her head. She turns back to her plate as Louis looks at his mothers searching gaze. He catches the way El passes her food on the plate with the fork as if it is more important than anything she could see on his face. He feels so distanced suddenly, and uneasy. All he wants to do to feel normal again seem to be to run out of the sweet smelling room. The awkwardness is eating him alive.

"See you." he says to no one particular as his mother waves.

"Look after yourself" she says, surely wanting to protest. But she doesn't.

He just leaves without saying another word. Donning dark shades, he follows Rob, the personal Paul had sent, to the car with a stoic face. He wishes he had spoken with Eleanor the moment the engine starts running. At least a word or two... but he had not.

And that is that...

 

After a silent ride with his head pressed to the cool tinted glass of the SUV, he gets down to a inner car park at the hospital and lets Niall, who had come back in the morning before Louis, lead the way to the detox unit as usual. Niall tells him that he is going to Zayn's indicating Louis can join him, but Louis doesn't.

He knows Zayn would not mind if anything.

With Niall gone, Louis just drops on to the chair by the door. He sits there, outside Harry's room, the whole day... Liam comes out to check on him once - _maybe Niall told him he is right outside_ \- looking concerned. He only asks Louis if he was OK, to which Louis just shrugs. Liam does not stay long. And he is glad Liam or Niall does not try to talk him out of it. Maybe what he really needed was some peace and to be left alone.

He sits there, stone stoic , but his head runs far and away... sweeping through memories, flashing the moments of past like lightening in a stormy sky. Their time as friends, lovers, exes and strangers... strangers who once knew each other like the back of their minds - or at least Louis thought he knew Harry through and through.

He remembers the night before the kidnap, the way Harry nearly broke down, the way he tried to cover it up by playing the dickhead on Louis the next day, trying to hide his softened corners. Their last show and the last argument in that dark narrow corridor before everything fell in to the hell. The stretched hours with no idea where or how Harry was. The fear and dread. Then seeing him finally in a condition he never imagined to see him in - beaten and wounded. How Harry had laid beside him when he, Louis couldn't even move an inch due to his bounds. The way Harry curled in with his messy haired head on Louis lap, desperate for some comfort. But then everything narrows down to the moment he saw Harry in the clutches of those men in the end... the blue eyed fucking albino Moth, Nick or Nicky or whatever... the hateful words he spat out blaming Harry of fucking killing someone...

His mind swirls around each moment, each expression each confusion and question... about Harry. Only Harry... as if he was in a thirst of something that had been denied for so long. Of course he and people around him had denied him of the curly haired, green eyed boy, who left him to dangle from air like a discarded balloon. But now it seemed like the only thing he is able to do or think.

So he just sits there, the whole day, the entire day... thinking - filling his head with thoughts of _him._

 

Even when he gets back to the hotel late night at the day, the thoughts does not give up on him. His Mom, Lottie nor El says anything when he stumbles in to his room. Nor they question him, leaving him at peace as he wanted. But the moment he gets on to his bed next to his mother (who had opts to read at that time to ignore his ridiculous behavior), all he wants is to go back. Go back and sit outside the hospital room which he knows Harry is inside.

So in the next morning he goes back. And the day after that.

 

It becomes a routine then...

Waking up and getting Rob, Harry's personal, to drive him to the hospital, only to comeback after mid night to his alien spot next to his mother. He spends his day at the hospital either outside Harry's room or in the lobby of the detox facility or killing time in Zayn's room without interacting with anyone much. Zayn just lets him stay without interrupting, knowing Louis would just confine him to the detox section if he did. Niall and Liam occasionally hoover over him to eat. But they do not fuss over him being there nor try to tell him not to ... and he is glad they does not. He does not ask if Harry knows he was there... he tries not to guess.

Then Harry's family is let in... which meant Harry had passed his severe withdrawal state, which also meant that sitting there, Louis would have to meet Anne and Gemma.

Anne practically throws herself at him... hugging him. They were pretty close back then with Louis constantly visiting them in their Cheshire house. To tell the truth, Louis suspected their Moms were still in constant contact, despite of their break up two years before, as same as Gems and Lottie who openly spent time together whenever Gemma came on tour with them. But the close friendship Louis had with Gemma was strained after him and Harry broke up, which Louis knew was inevitable with the tight relationship of the two siblings. But funnily, Lottie and Harry did not seem to have that issue.

Anne does not ask him what he was doing there nor if he wanted to come in with them. She knew how to read people and when not to ask questions. One of the greatest things about Anne. Even Gemma only asks him how he was doing... and that she was glad he had waved off the vampire paleness he sported previously.

Louis smiles, for what it feels like in weeks.

They leave him alone, just indicating that he can come in with them if he wants. But he does not... he could not. So he just sits there... spacing out as usual until it's time to go back.

Harry is getting better, Louis knew... but in what extent, he did not know. He feels reluctant to find out, dig for details though he did not know why. He knows Harry is getting better because he is allowed visitors, still limited numbers, but visitors nonetheless.

Jay, Lottie, Zayn's Mom, Sophia all drop in. But Louis never goes in, slipping in to Zayn's room whenever his Mom or sister comes in.

He doesn't know if he should just walk in now Harry is awake... after everything that had happened. He feels scared to face him in a way ... terrified how he would react. He tries to guess if Harry would want him there. Would it be too hard for him to look at Louis? will he panic, seeing him? Liam and Niall must have surely told him that Louis's there... and so must have Gemma.

Then why hadn't Harry asked Louis to come in? He asks himself with a pang of hurt. 

He continues with his routine though, going to the detox section everyday for almost a week, sitting outside or in Zayn's room... waiting, ... waiting for what reason, - he doesn't really know.

 

  ..................................

 

 

 

 

Putting down his bare feet to the floor from the bed, Louis blindly seeks the bedside clock with a bumming head. Getting through the day felt like a habit now for almost a week. Washing up, getting dressed - riding off to the hospital, then coming back to barely sleep. Circular repeats, over and over. 

He dreaded the nights, because of the nightmares he would get, of the dirty warehouse, threatening pale face - and Harry.

Burying his face in his palms he breaths deep in to his hands, eyes still trying to adjust to the morning light.

He remembers,...

Zayn is getting discharged today.

 

He is about to get up and walk to the bathroom to get dressed as he hears a light knock on his door. The door is already unlocked, but he almost hesitates as Eleanor pushes the door open, not waiting for a second knock or him to open the door. She is still in her night shirt, hair in a messy bun. Her bony but slender figure and pale perfect skin on display... She steps in, carrying a trey of scrambled eggs, toast and tea.

"Morning" She says timidly, but her eyes flickers with a sort of a firm determination which Louis is kind of used to whenever she is set on something.

Keeping the tray on the middle, she sits next to him. And Louis does not know what to say. With his mind in a constant battle and unease, everything else feels like a pain in the ass - a burden that he had to bear... Eleanor most of all.

Even though he felt guilty about it. He knows it is all unfair - that he is being unfair. His insides screamed that  he is being an ungrateful, unfair pathetic ass. But all he wanted to ask her was if she knew about Harry's contract with Modest to keep away from him? because the irritated and blaming part of his mind kept tugging him, telling him that she is one of the reasons ... reasons he settled on to moving on, ignoring Harry. 

"Did you sleep OK?" she asks softly.

And he just sighs, running his hands through his hair and face. "Yeah."

Silence hangs with a silly awkwardness in the air for a moment. 

"Eat some," she says lightly touching his thigh, and he flinches inside his mind to her touch.

"Not hungry. I've to go." he says without looking at her.

She takes her hand off and clasps with the other on her lap. She seemes to nod patiently. "OK, I'll come with you then."

Louis runs his fingers through his hair leaning down as he sighs. "I can manage"

Eleanor bites her lip, as if she had no idea how to do this.

"I'm sorry about the other day -" she says in the end, mildly, as if she's walking on glass. "I shouldn't have made a fuss. I'm sorry I got you mad. I didn't want to fight."

Louis shakes his head. Their fight? it's the last thing he had in mind. He doesn't look at her. He doesn't want to see her slim beautiful frame and hazel eyes. He wanted to hate the soft, dark locks he had grown to love running his fingers through. He feels weighted and heavy over her concerned and worrying gaze which he once craved and embraced like a soft duvet which absorbed his pain and loneliness.

_How much did she know about Harry's contract? did she know about it at all? Did she know all those times he wailed and lashed out years back when Harry broke up with him? Did she purposefully not tell him that Harry was pushed to break up with him? influenced and persuaded or possibly forced?_

His train of thoughts were cut again as El sighs and leans forward imitating him.

"I ... I just need to help, Louis. I don't know what happened in there but I know whatever it was, it must have been horrible. For all three of you. Perri's with Zayn and I know Liam's locked to Harry. I'm your girlfriend, Louis. Just... just let me help. I want to be there for you and ..."

"Did you know that Harry signed a bloody contract to break up with me two years back?" Louis blurts suddenly.

The room silent for a moment once more. 

"What...?" Eleanor stares at him almost dumbly, lost with Louis' sudden blame filled tone.

"Did you or did you not know Harry signed a contract to break up with me?" his question sounds casual enough.

Eleanor looks shocked than anything else.

"I -I don't ...- I - what's this... I-"

Maybe it's because it's all out of the blue or maybe it's because of Louis' cutting tone. But underlying the confusion, concern and everything else, there it was... the weak shadow of guilt. And unease that sneaks up with right with it.

It scrapes his insides with thorns. Maybe he desperately wanted to hear her say _no_ -  for her to not to know... He wanted to believe she did not know... for both of their sake or even maybe even Harry's. Get mad at him for even asking - fight him. But Eleanor had lied to him. She had known. She had known all along.

"I - it's not what you think-"

Eleanor starts, but the last thing Louis wanted was an explanation. He feels an urge to pick up the bloody trey with food and throw it across the room and smash everything around him to pieces. But instead he just takes off and locks himself in the bathroom, not looking back at the way El sat there, clenched herself to appear smaller maybe.

He busies himself brushing his teeth and washing... staring at his pale scuffed up image in the mirror. He didn't want to think about anything at the moment. Didn't want to talk to anyone.

When he returns back Eleanor has already left the room... as he had hoped she would. The trey of toast and eggs still sits on his bed - All gone cold.

 

...............................

 

 

 

Louis goes with Zayn to Harry's room later.

Still on clutches, the only way for Zayn to get to the detox section is to let someone push him in a wheel chair, which he accepts rather bitterly. The attendant who takes him lets Niall takeover at the door to Harry's room.

Niall stares at him expectantly. "You are not coming in?" He asks Louis, as he turns to his usual chair outside the room.

"Later" he says winking at Zayn. Niall purses his lips with a pout as if Louis denied him of a bloody weat bix. But pushes the wheel chair in to the room while Gemma held it open the door for them.

Louis drops down to his chair as if he is tired after a day's hard work... only he hadn't done anything close. It's just the fatigue that is wearing him down.. he knows.

 

Zayn leaves the hospital an hour later, and Louis promises Zayn to drop in to his hotel before going to his own that night... It's the usual Zayn's way of getting Louis to talk if he needs to - luring Louis in to his grasp with an unrefusable expression. And it usually always works. So he intentionally avoids going.

The downside to Zayn leaving is that now Louis would have nowhere else to run to in the hospital, pretending he is there for both Zayn _and_ Harry. With Zayn leaving, it would now look ridiculous, Louis sitting outside, because Harry is allowed visitors now.

Well, not the whole crowd, mainly the ones that had influence enough to get to Griffith and Magee... the ones they could not refuse without bringing suspicion.

It did concerned Louis how Modest is handling the whole blow up, making it look like a bloody accident. He felt pathetic for the way they pushed it all over the media to gain more sympathy and popularity... but, Louis knows for sure that he would rather go with that plan, just stroll with it than open up about it... not least to the public. He definitely did not have the courage and he doubted Zayn nor Harry did. For once, he was glad Modest and them were in the same side though for very different reasons.

When he heard that Modest had restricted the visitors for Harry he felt relieved... not only because that would keep out the obnoxious London crowd including Grimy, but because they all would have more freedom to brood around, free from faking the rehearsed accident details.

The only people who had been granted permission to see Harry apart from them boys and the families had been Jeff and Glen as far as Louis knew-  even that for a limited number of visits. And Louis is positive that Azoffs had not been told anything different than the accident story. It would have been a risk to tell anyone at this point, let along the son of a man who owned one of the biggest rivalry  production companies in the world. 

Maybe Azoff senior personally called them demanding to let Jeff enter.

 

Harry's relationship with Azoffs has always been a funny one - Louis for one did not understand the ridiculous close attachment Harry had developed with the Azroffs to practically consider him as family lately-, none of the boys really did...though it did not come as a surprise. This is Harry they were talking about, who had the ability to twirl his way in to others' hearts like it is his territory... like it is what he was born to do-

 So Louis was not much surprised to meet Jeff and Glen followed by another tall guy in the corridors as he was leaving a bit early to avoid Niall dragging him to Zayn's. Louis suddenly feels glad he opted for the sleeved hoody, covering his scarred wrists while hiding away the skin which is supposed to be bruised by the accident. 

"Louis" Jeff calls out meters ahead, concerned eyes on him. He looks worried.

"Jeff, Glen-" Louis eyes the tall sharp man questioningly.

"Xender Ritz, I know H. Glad you are OK, lad" his extended hand looks strong and square.

"Settings are ridiculous, man. I've been trying to get down for about three weeks." Jeff complains as Louis shakes the hand.

"You coming from H's?" Glen asks

"Yeah... he's ummm... he's -" Louis hesitates... what the fuck had they been told about Harry's condition?

"Don't worry. we know. Liam told me about the hit he took to the head. I've already talked with H on phone. He does sound a bit slurred still. I'm sure he'll be fine after couple of weeks... least according to Docs." Jeff says.

Louis bites his lip. "Yeah , I guess"

"Happens when you take a good blow but he'll be back at it in no time." tall guy, Xender says as if he's assuring a worried Louis. Louis isn't sure he likes that much.

"Won't you know about that now..." Glen say patting Xander's back lightly. "He plays charity footy... took a hard ball to the head two months back and landed in hospital for a week. H was worried he'd loose the appetite for bawling but there he was after a month, smashing it with H."

Louis just stares at Glen managing to line a pathetic smile at them. Harry? Bawling?

 Jeff hisses a smile shaking his head. "Ignore it... they are too excited to see him." He then eyes Louis seriously with a sigh as if there is a shady shadow above all of them.

"I'm truly glad that everyone got through this, you know... I know it's been tough for you'll with everything going on." Jeff carefully puts his hand on Louis' shoulder as if not sure if it would hurt his injuries or not. "Don't hesitate to call if you need anything at all, man. Liam's got my number... let me know if I could be of any help."

Louis just nods.

"Take care, man" Xander lightly pats on his cheek with genuine look in his face. He then walks away with Jeff as Glen smiles at Louis, as if to apologize for looking merry excited in a hospital.

 

Walking alone without looking back, Louis doesn't know why he feels slightly bitter in his tongue.

 

................................

 

 

 

"He's asking for you..." is all that takes for Louis' eyes to shoot at Liam's standing self the next day as he sat in his usual spot outside Harry's room.

Liam almost fidgets, as the cutting blue eyes stare at him. He looks as if Louis' bout to pounce at him.

"What?" 

He asks dumbly, not because he didn't hear him... but did Harry really wanted to see him?

"Well eemm, I mentioned you are here... that you've been here. He's emm... he wants to see you. " he says nervously.

Louis half glares, half stares. Did Harry really wanted to see him or is this Liam's way of asking him to go in?... seeing how pathetic Louis looked sitting out here like a stranger when almost everyone else seem to go in and see him?

"He's in much better shape now." Liam adds as if he had to compel Louis to go in. "- not talking or anything much but..."

Louis keeps staring at Liam, and for some reason Liam looks like he is expecting Louis to refuse.

"Is he still on medication?"

"Yeah - but eemm... not that much, comparing. Some pain killers and antibiotics. He's - he's getting better." Liam repeats, as if he needed to confirm it to Louis.

Louis just nods, scanning Liam's face as he looks back at him. Liam seem better rested than previous days actually- and Louis considers that to be a good sign.

"I'll be there in a minute"

Louis says looking at his hands as if he suddenly found them working... the fingers and all. Liam drags for a few seconds... as if he didn't know what Louis meant by that. Then he leaves, awkwardly... It takes the sound of the door locking in after Liam goes in for Louis to get up. Feeling a tingle in his fingers, Louis sweeps them in to his pocket nervously. He feels a rush behind his ears making feel as if he wants to pant.

He didn't know if he is ready to see Harry now, after this much of waiting. Sure he saw Harry sprawled lifelessly on the bed - attached to drips and plastered, unconscious or asleep. The image had been haunting him night and day- but now Harry will be awake, looking back at him with those doe, green eyes.

Did he really ask for him?

He doesn't wait to think more or breath more - he knew he is about to run off with an excuse. So it is now or never. Gripping his fingers in the pockets Louis walks to the door. He lets out a long sigh to calm him self and knocks without thinking twice.

Liam opens as Louis expects... just in to his second knock. Did he just stand there waiting for Louis to knock?

 

Louis walks in... his heart pounding even louder than the previous time he came in to the room. The room is fully lit this time unlike the last. It is wide and white, less decorative than the one Zayn was in... no windows, mirrors, no absolutely nothing. Harry would have appreciated some candles at least, as far as Louis knew.

And some curtains to hide the ridiculous white.

 

Harry is there... on the bed, with Gemma and Niall sitting either side of him.

They tries to smile at him but Louis could only look at the long haired boy in the middle who does not look up. His face is still inhumanly pale, with traces of healing scars here and there. But true to what Liam said, he looks hundred times better. His face is not swollen anymore and his hair had been washed to it's normal fluffed curls which reached slightly below his shoulders. He had a flimsy white shirt on which reveled the white plasters covering half of his chest and abdomen underneath.

Harry's gaze is fixed at his left hand, with which he seem to be making an invisible pattern as that's more important than looking up. Looking at the hand, Louis sees that three of the fingers are heavily bandaged... are they broken? why didn't he notice that before?

"Harry" Niall calls softly- could the Irish truly sound that tender? - "Louis' here."

 Louis step closer to the bed, slowly. Harry had gotten thinner, he notices, getting closer... he could practically see the collarbones popping as he carefully turns his head up. The greens stare at him nervously, hesitantly.

  
Harry's gaze had always been intense, bold and sharp, as if he would not dare to miss a detail. But eyes that finds him looks different... scared, guilty even - reddish, glassy and burning as if he is feverish.

Does Harry still have fever? In the warehouse, Harry had burnt with fever - Louis could still feel the heat of his body next to him. 

Harry looks tired, but his stare doesn't move.

"Hi" Louis mouths automatically... yes, it is what comes out of his mouth for Harry the first time he sees him after the whole fucking circus they been through. Fucking marvelous. He grits his teeth inside...

Harry's eyes keeps staring at him without a word. Louis could see them becoming glassier.

Beside Harry Gemma gets up, sweeping her hand lightly on Harry's locks.

"We'll let you two to it... I can do with a cuppa" Niall gets up with her to leave as Harry follows them with his eyes. Niall knocks Louis on the chest in an assuring way as he passes him.

"I'll stay... if Harry needs anything-" He hears Liam say. _If Louis messes anything up_ , Louis was sure that was what Liam truly meant to say.

Liam drops on a couch in the further corner as Louis steps closer.

"How are you feeling?" very original Tomlinson... bravo.

Harry shrugs - or Louis thinks he does - moving just a half an inch. Harry runs his fingers through the bandaged ones as if he just realized they were plastered. His eyes looks dry again, still feverish though.

Feeling awkward, Louis starts running his fingers on the white sheet. 

"Y-ou met Jeff?" Harry asks suddenly. His raspy calm slur of a voice almost making Louis' breath hitch. The screams and painful wails, begging cries almost echos in Louis' head, making everything sway in front of him.

"Yeah... I - I met him in the corridors... when he came to see you yesterday."

Silence.

"He told me"

Louis just nods feeling something heavy building in his throat. His stomach feels knotted.

Harry wipes his nose from his right. He suddenly seems to have a loose nose.

Reaching to the bed stand Louis grabs few tissue from the tissue box and hands them over to Harry.

 "Thanks" Harry says, taking them with a shaking hand.

He wipes his nose roughly and Louis feels an urge to grab them off and wipe it tenderly himself. Blinking away the thought, he reaches and grabs the tissue box from the stand to keep it on the bed for Harry. Something silver shines as he removes the box from the stand, making him strain his eyes... is that Harry's silver cross? he thinks hard, _wanting to distract himself from the overwhelming feeling of seeing him like this... moving, talking breathing without screaming out and gasping for breath ... with no meaty muscular hands dragging him around, grabbing at him and punching him, making him scream feebly..._ \- Louis wants to pick up the silver cross and feel the cool metal in his hand but instead he goes back to straightening the sheet.

"Why were you outside?" Harry asks in a painful tone.  

And that does it for Louis, without a reason...

-Breaks whatever that he is holding because Harry is asking him why he couldn't come in... Why he couldn't face him when Louis did not know the answer. Did not know how he could look him in the eye after seeing him beaten and bloody... didn't know how to listen to his voice after hearing him scream and beg ... didn't know how he could look at him without wrapping his arms around him and holding him until they both could forget everything that happened and start it all over...

His throat hitches as he bends his neck and grips on the sheet with white knuckles. He strains his eye shut to stop the salty drops falling on to the white hospital sheets... but he fails as the droplets fall on to the bed which sucks them in an instant. He wants to stop... stop. He squeezes the back of his neck from the other hand and holds his breath, tightening his eyes... only to open them when he feels a weak and hesitant touch on his fingers gripping the sheets. He inhales as he opens his eyes to see the bandaged, long fingers on his. Then Harry draws them off Louis' hand... still keeping them closer as Louis looks at him with a blurred vision. Harry's green eyes looks dry somehow, though his face looks almost red.

"You don't even have those bloody fumed candles here..." Louis complains, his voice comes cracked and heavy. His nose feels terribly loose.

"I'll bring some when I come in tomorrow..." he says wiping off his damned eyes sensing Harry's stare on him.

_Why the fuck is he crying?_

"... from that stupid shop you used drag me in to and walk around for hours." he smiles awkwardly feeling lightheaded and out of breath suddenly. Wanting something to do with his hands he picks up Harry's cross necklace from the side table and runs his fingers through the smooth silver surface. He searches for Harry's face then, feeling the green stare leave him. Harry too starts playing with his hand, knocking the bandaged fingers on the plastered back of the right palm.

"I'm getting discharged tomorrow" Harry says his voice sounds almost broken & flat.

There goes his candle plan. Louis bites his lips and puts the cross where it was.

"I'll still bring the candles ... in the evening."

Harry just looks at him without a word. Louis takes that as an _OK_.

"I need... we should... I think we should talk or something." He sounds breathless as he says. He feels as if his lungs are ready to give up. "I'll come back. Just... I - I'll bring-" Louis clasps his mouth looking down at the sheets. Harry's eyes are still fixed on him.

Why is he messing this up?... Louis takes a light breath and sighs forcing him to feel calmer.

"I'll see you in the evening then?" he asks craving to hear the low, deep voice again. But Harry just slightly nods, staring at Louis.

Louis almost bends down for a hug but suddenly Harry looks taken aback, making Louis freeze inside. Recovering quickly though Louis descends for a light pat on Harry's knee, stretching his lips in a bitter smile he fails to control.

"Take care, Harry" he mumbles.

He doesn't look at Liam nor acknowledge Liam as he lets himself out of the room.

 

 

He goes back to his hotel after.

Lottie and his mom looks surprised to see him that early. For some unexplainable reason, he feels as if half of the screaming weight in his head and heart disappeared. He even joins with his mom and sister for lunch in the hotel restaurant, choosing to avoid asking why El hasn't joined them. They don't tell him either. Jay seems happy to see the sudden mood change and maybe didn't want to risk messing it up again. But Lottie is different.

"James invited me and mom for an early dinner, want to join?" she him asks casually, walking back to the suite with him. Jay had gone to the spa for an hour, so it was just two of them. James is their cousin. Louis knew he is in town, and no... he doesn't want a session of family love with peeking strangers. He just shakes his head to Lottie without a word.

"El's not coming either" Lottie says, eyeing him for a reaction -  as if it gave him a reason to join them.

"Did you two fight?" she asks when he doesn't say anything. "She left." she adds.

Louis stares at Lottie, meeting her questioning eyes. And Louis doesn't know what to say. Does he tell her about the whole fiasco of Harry's changed contract? About how he found out? Eleanor and Lottie had become closer within these two years. Hell, El had been their mom's bride's maid for god's sake. How would they take it if they knew Eleanor might have known about it all along? Did she really knew about it all along? She didn't actually admit to knowing anything, did she? Then why did she leave suddenly? It's not as is they hadn't fought before? Did it hurt her that much? ...him asking if she knew about the contract? Sure, El gets offended so easily - gets hurt for the simplest things...

Did she merely get upset with him for snapping at her all the time since he woke up in the hospital? Or is it because he mentioned H in that way? Did she see where it's all ultimately headed? He almost feels a twinge of guilt for being somewhat unreasonable with her. But it is not as if he had lashed out at her yesterday... she had plenty of time and space to tell him anything... right?

"I'll talk to her..."

"She said she'll call"

He sighs. "Fine..." He says wanting to put it off for the time being. He'll have to call her sooner or later though, he knew. But he had too much running in his head now.

Well, maybe tomorrow...

 

 

 

At quarter past three, Louis pays and gets two boxes of fumed candles from the counter of the top end candle shop.

He had spent almost an hour walking through the shelves practically being haunted by an extreme case of deja vu and the too serine fume that has made his senses float. The shop seemed changed though... and it had been almost what - three years? The woman in the counter eyes him cautiously as if she wanted to say he was still recognizable even with his over sized hood covering his face.

He should let Rob talk to her about confidentiality... Last thing he wants is people making speculations why he was walking around a bloody candle shop, which is marked to be a Harry habitat with boxes of candles in his hand. 

 

He goes to the hospital for the second time of the day, walking along the hollow detox facility.  Only few nurses pass him through the whole journey. Honestly, Louis could not imagine how a person would find the will to fight anything surrounded by these empty white walls,... addicted or not.

Reaching the familiar door, Louis' heart raises as he knocks on the door not unlike the previous time... - so much for the calm he thought he had.

 Liam opens the door again, unsurprisingly. He could fit easily right in for the butler, Louis thinks of cracking a joke, but the thought dies in his head as he hears voices inside. And they surely did not belong to Niall or Gemma.

"Hey" Liam says with a surprised expression in his face.

"Candles-" Louis says, the word sounds suddenly alien in his tongue as he lifts the box for Liam to see. " I told'im I'll bring some."

Liam looks at him dumbly for a second before mumbling,

"Oh... Oh yes, yeah- I didn't think you'd ummm."'

Louis gives him a look. Liam did not think he'd come? that's rich...

"Come in." Liam pulls the door for him to enter turning back, "Louis' here."

The chatter inside dies, and Louis steps in to four sets of eyes on him. Gemma , of course Jeff, Xander and... Harry.

Harry's gaze drops soon to his lap and Gemma looks at him with a mix of surprise and calculation, eyes moving to the box of candles and back to Louis' face. Is she wondering why he's here bringing her brother candles all of a sudden? He bites his lip to shake off the awkwardness.

Having paused in mid conversation, Jeff and Xander smiles at him. But what catches Louis' eye was Xander's square hand casually on Harry's... without a grip, without any holding - just laying there still ... touching on skin as it is the most normal thing.

"Hey" his voice sound lower than he expects it to be. He clears his throat.

Louis stares at Harry who was dressed in a long sleeved white shirt... which totally covers his chest and arms,  bruises on the neck only marginally visible due to the plasters and the collar. They could manage to pass as accident scars hopefully. Louis couldn't possibly see how modest would allow any outsiders to know the truth... even _if it is Jeff bloody Assoff! Specially if it is an Assoff._

Louis keeps looking at Harry as Harry continues to avoid his gaze. He looks far hesitant than before. Is he scared to look at him with this crowd?

"Alright, mate?" Jeff asks with a small but his usual genuine smile

"Yeah... yeah" he says pushing to turn his lip muscles upward. "Was just dropping these - some ... emm... candles and stuff" he says trying to not to sound out of place and disappointed. _What was he expecting? Harry to have been waiting alone for him until he appears with the bloody fumed candles like some world concurred hero?_

Suddenly the box of candles feel heavier in his hand than before...

"High maintenance again, Hershel?" Xander teases as if it is some running joke between them. _Hershel??_ Harry looks up with pursed lips this time. Tension looks clear in his face.  "Here we thought you were laying low, I feel bad not bringing anything now." Xander's hand sweeps Harry's bandaged arm slowly.

"Oh.. ummm don't worry... I just volunteered." Louis says wanting to tear the awkwardness that knocks on his mind. "I'll just leave it with Liam"

"Shall I order a cappuccino, mate?... we were getting some coffee" Jeff says, taking out his phone as if he just remembered, already starting to dial...

"No - no. I was just dropping these... I - eeem... I promised Lottie that I'll join them in the dinner - my cousins' in town" He says nothing but wanting to leave the light hearted room.

"Oh, you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm already running late I think" Louis says handing the box to Liam. Liam just stares at him as Louis offers him the most reasonable _everything's fine_ smile he could manage. Louis just spares a quick glance at Harry who meets his eyes for a second or two, his face strained and tired...

Shouldn't he be getting some sleep and proper resting without some loud chattering and teasing going around him? Louis feels an irritation and annoyance hoovering over as he walks to the door with Liam following him close. He turns to face Liam only after getting out of the room.

"I'll see you soon."

"Yeah..." Liam looks at him calculatingly.

"When is the discharge tomorrow?"

"Evening... 2.30"

"I'll come around."

"Yeah... yeah Ok. His hotel's already booked..." Liam sounds as if it would set Louis up... "Wellesley" he says, and Louis just nods knowingly.

Well... the furthest they could manage from rest of them - _bloody Modest!_

"Tommo" Liam calls out as Louis turns to leave, making him turn his head. Liam gives him a hard unblinking look.

"El came - after you left."

Louis just stares at Liam. _What...?_

"Said she wanted to see Harry."

Louis just widens his eyes, not sure what to say. Why on earth would El drop in here? Harry and she hardly got on... How could they?

"Just wanted you to know..." Liam says ridding him from the door.

He spares a low gaze at Louis as Louis takes a step back, turning away. He starts walking along the corridor with tight lips. He hears the door close behind him but he does not look back.

 

That night he tries to call Eleanor... but all his calls goes directly to her happy answering voice.

After the seventh attempt, Louis gives up.

....................................................................................................................

 

 

 

Harry Magee, Modest!'s head had requested him in the detox unit at 10.00 am. It's still 8.15 as he checks the watch while walking along the empty white corridor where the room SP7 is.

It is not only because Alex is a creature of habit... eased at the thought of keeping ahead of times, but after being assigned to head the immediate security- hand in hand with Paul Higgins, he had been revealed much of the band's inner details by the management. And with the whole incident, there is a nudge in the back of his thoughts... Something that stuck in his mind since the rescue - since he and the team found the two world famous stars in that unexpected and shocking condition in the abandoned warehouse..,

It's a concern for them maybe, an aftershock of seeing what he did. A protective feeling he almost did not want to nurture, but did.

Of course he had seen the medical reports, he had seen everything... specifically Styles' reports when he was in a meeting with many of Modest's heads few days back. He has to admit that it left him wondering on how the lad's holding up so far. Not that he had not seen it before, yet the fame and status the boy is in, made it all much more hard to imagine.

Being given to head the team until the possible threat passes, now that they knew threat is hardly passed, Alex had been requested to accompany Styles to the hotel after the discharge as same as Tomlinson. Styles is to make his first media appearance and they were expecting a possible panic at the gates.

Alex knew the whole setting is insane, given Styles' condition but if he learned anything from the past few weeks, that is that the entertainment industry worked in a funny way. Like a story being made to be showcased, only it was the real life of these kids, icons, people in limelight. Everything is planned, created, nurtured... seeds are planted to get the results like some drama script.

It all seemed insane, but he is not there to question... so he was told by his director.

 

As Alex takes his final turn in the corridor to the room 7 where Styles is in, he spots two figures outside the room. Horan... and Styles' sister who is positively shredding some tears with her eyes red and face slightly blotchy. Horan seemed to be talking to her, consoling maybe. As Alex draws near, the girl wipes her eyes and sniffs. She indeed had an aura of cheekiness to her, according to the debrief he got on her, - ladylike but protective, typical to what she had to be with a close younger brother in show business.

"Agent Waters" she spares him a stern gaze as if he offended her in someway. Well they did not get off the friendliest foot the first time they met some days back.

"Ms. Styles,.. Mr. Horan,"

"Thought the discharge is 2.30? Dr. Stevens said so... Paul's dropping in, right?" Horan asks sliding his hands to his pockets.

"Yeah... yeah, but Mr. Magee and Higgins are already on the way. Mr. Magee wishes to speak with Mr Styles, Dr.Steven is informed. They'll be here on time. I'm merely early" He says, checking the time.

They both stare at him until Horan crosses his arms and sighs, looking away. Alex could practically feel the disapproval emitting from Styles' sister.

 "Don't think he's up for talking." Horan says then, looking up at Alex.

Alex just stares at him wondering if the boys are as this protective of each other even before the fiasco. It is as if he is talking about someone in an inner circle which others should get permission to have direct access to.

"The meeting is already scheduled. It's casual, I guess." He says as the boy scans him with blue sharp eyes.

"I'll let Liam know", he says knocking lightly as the Styles' sister keeps her eyes on Alex unblinkingly as if to ask something.

The door opens inwards and the corridor suddenly fills with low sounds of painful hisses coming from the room. The blond walks in without looking back, squeezing sister Styles' shoulder as he goes. "See you around, Alex."

The door closes cutting out the sounds.

Alex could feel the tension - disapproval emitting from the girl, maybe not directly for him but ... Apparently there are enough clashes between the boys and the management even without the recent situation. So he heard from the crew.

"Do you have any siblings, Agent Waters?"

The girl suddenly asks leaning back, catching Alex almost off guard. He eyes her steadily. Nose running, skin blotchy and tired...her eyes looks red and glassy. But even then she is a clear resemblance to her famous brother. She seem to possess a habit of being both blunt and smooth at the same time... well aren't all these celebrities though? - she's not exactly a celebrity.  But aren't the celebrity siblings even worse though?

"I... ummm I- I do have a sister, Ms Styles." He says calmly. How many of his own team knew that he had a sister again?

She just nods, running her long fingers on her bitten lips, reaching the corners of her eyes.

"She's an officer like you?"

Alex raises his brows. "Err... no. No. She's - she's an accountant."

She just looks at her as if she could not understand why he was hesitating on talking about his sister. Crossing her arms, she bites her lip lightly.

"I hope she's doing well?"

"Yeah, yeah... she is" he just shakes his head with a slight shrug, unable to imagine where this is going.

The girl takes a quick breath in,.. is she going to cry again?

"My brother- " she pauses as if her own words are hurting her, "My brother is in this room crying out of pain because some bloody maniac happen to burn him like a piece of meat, agent Waters, and I- I can't watch him cry like that."

She wipes her eyes fully as tears smudged her cheeks. What is she going at?

"Tell me what you would do if it is your sister in there and you in my place...?"

He just sighs "Ms. Styles..."

"Gemma, call me Gemma, please" she says pressing her head back.

She closes her eyes tight and remains silent for a moment. Alex waits... When she opens her eyes again, she almost looks regretful. She sighs tiredly, pushing away her coloured hair out of the face.

"They are changing his dressings. He's... - it's painful for him. He always cries out... Sorry I-"

"I understand don't worry..."

Gemma looks at him as if distracted, and sniffs through her breaths.

"Many in this bloody business thinks he's this bounce back ball which can deflect all the shit that thrown at him. But he's nothing but a kid who was asked to pay more than he got, Mr. Waters. My brother's got thick skin but - ... I just -just... I don't know how he would survive this though..."

Alex purses his lips glancing at her for a second. He wonders if the Styles family had seen the medical reports of the boy. Maybe the doctors had explained to them. It is not like it is just prejudice of fame and splendour, what the boy had been put through"

"How many people have you seen in a same condition as my brother during your duties, Agent Waters?"

The girl is blunt, he'll give her that... In a way, that comes innocent and slightly irrelevant, almost. As if she was asking something out of her stream of thought, not really saying what she is thinking. Well that's a trait to get easily misunderstood."

"You can call me Alex" he says instead, ",and I do wish I could say none, but in my line of job I have seen things I rather wish I did not, Gemma Styles."

She looks at him with a grimness, but eyes slightly hesitant.

"Were you there when he was found? and Louis?" she asks, and he returns her stare but says nothing.

He knows she wants to ask... ask what he saw, what he knows of what happened or how they found them... But she does not ... and he does not tell, he is sure he would not tell her even if she asked... for her sake.

Maybe that is one of the reasons he wanted to check on the boy- having seen him in that condition. When the rest of the world has been obsessing over him, in his star form, he had seen him at his most vulnerable.

With his raging stardom, fame and popularity, the demand for him to return to his normality would be higher than Everest... if anything, he doubted if anyone actually wanted to reveal what really happened to these boys while held captive. The managing companies are ready to do everything they can to push the accident story and the boys themselves seem more than happy to go with it. Alex felt that much during the confidential meetings he had with the management heads of the band. There are so much at stake for these profit minded companies at the moment. And what Alex was not too sure about is how Styles is going to face this - this pressure and expectations of being ' _Harry Styles_ ' after all of this... to go back to likes of what he had been sold as, as if nothing happened because that's his job - because he's famous.

In a way he knew that Gemma Styles is saying the same thing. But the difference is, Alex had a bit more insight to what these three boys had gone through than probably any other in this building.

Even so, for the sake of this concerned girl, Alex doesn't say anything.

 

...........................................................................

 

 

 

"-ello?" Louis answers without looking at the caller ID. He doesn't bother getting up, still in bed.

"Louis"

The voice wakes him up. Some static sound runs in the other end, as if she's in a wider space.

"Where are you?" his sounds raspy. And tired.

"Airport. I'm going to Paris." Eleanor says in a straight tone.

He sighs. Is this her way of flipping everything at him? what... is she playing a victim now? after _they_ went through all that? Three of they almost died for Christ sake! does she have a clue what is was even like?

"Did you go to the hospital yesterday?" He asks instead.

Silence. He could hear her breath. But she doesn't say anything.

"Should I ask why?" he asks.

"Look, Louis, I didn't call to get interrogated. I saw a dozen calls last night and thought you are genuinely worried. I'm thick like that. But I know not to stay when I'm not wanted. I'm just a rebound after all."

"I'm not the one who did wrong here." He spats, cursing himself for even answering this call.

"Yeah? what exactly do you think I did wrong? I never lied to you."

"No, I never lied to you, Eleanor. I never lied. You knew that from the beginning."

Eleanor sighs, deep as he raises his voice. "I don't want to do this with you right now, Louis. You... you went through something and - and if I can't help you with it, I'll at least stay away until you are well."

"Did you know about Harry's contract?" he shoots, without a care. he's done tip toeing on this.

"Yes, I did. Months after you two split." she says matching his tone.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"Because Harry asked me not to alright? and because I was a foolish little girl to want you."

"Why the fuck-"

"No. Alright? I'm not doing this with you right now. Not until you are well. just - just call me whenever, Louis. And I'll answer if I can. Goodbye!"

 

The line cuts, leaving the empty dial tone in his ear. Amid the white sheets, he just lays there, looking at the ceiling.

 

 

............................................................................

 

 

 

 

 

 "We are going to take the most secured steps and give you every possible space to heal, Harry. That is the most important thing right now." Magee says after attempting a session of awkward small talk for an about ten minutes since they stepped in to the room.

With Payne and his sister by either side, Styles just stares at Alex, Paul and Magee with tensed, unease in his eyes. It is not that Styles' demeanor might have been particularly relaxed before-  but Alex could see him cringing the moment they all walked in.  Not even Style's mother, Anne Cox, her husband and the family lawyer sitting on the couch furthest to the bed changes that.

 "We hope we offered you the best possible treatment and think that it will be appreciated from your end." Magee says... his voice a carrying a slight defensive note.

Harry keeps staring at him without a word, and Liam seem to pick at his finger nails with teeth. Higgins has his eyes down and hands crossed in his broad chest as if he's a guilty parent trying to apologize without really admitting faults. Does the management have this much of a friction with the band? really? Alex could practically read off the tension from each and everyone's faces.

How the hell did they manage to carry on as a group this far?

But Maggee continues, though there is sort of a pampering tone as he goes on.

"We have assigned the Division Six agents headed by Agent Alex Waters to assist Mr. Higgins until such time that we are absolutely sure there is no threat. And we have assigned a special team for damage control which would assist you with everything from top to toe... even make-up artists who would help you to look like nothing happened at all until we are able to schedule transplants for the scarring and burns. So you don't have to be concerned at all of anything leaking out... the team will manage it. Do you have any questions, Harry?'

Maggee asks as if he wanted Harry to acknowledge. But nothing comes...

His head leaned back, Harry continues to stare with empty eyes... face pale and dull, as if it barely registered.

These people are either utterly dumb or just blinded by the means of their losses, - Alex couldn't help but think as he watches Magee purse his lips with heavy sigh - trying to talk business to someone who barely could sit in his hospital bed.

"I know this is not the best time to talk about stuff so I'm not going to take much time from you all." Magee continues in a tone that comes out too calm. Alex could feel that the man is fidgeting in side.

Harry moves slightly... as if trying to get comfortable in his laying form. He seem to be agitated if anything - can anyone blame him really? But the old business man doesn't seem to care, continuing to flap his words as if it is his duty.

"What happened was all uncanny and unexpected..." Magee says, with a twinge of concern in his voice, "- and we need to be strong to survive this. There are so many that would like to see us fail, Harry ... you out of all know that because you are the one working closest with PR dealings. You know how much we had to fight and you had to fight. We as a management and you as a band. I know we had some rough patches but for the last four years we managed to hit it with you boys and I don't believe there should be any difference in the next three. We have planned the progression and the band would get a slight transformation to a more edgier-"

Harry seem to blink at that, his eyes getting slightly wider.

"Th-ree?" he asks slowly, his voice comes deeper and raspier. The confused tone finally bringing out some emotion to his dull pale face. He looks at Magee curiously and wearily. Perhaps there're traces of annoyance in his face. Alex notices. Well who wouldn't  if their bosses wanted to talk business in a sick bed? Liam too shakes his head clearly unhappy about this whole set up. 

"The contract... for One Direction with Modest was extended, so we could manage to get you and Louis out, Harry. A sacrifice no one in the industry would do in that situation. But we as Modest won't step back if our artist's life is threatened, even if it meant a severe loss to us -,"

Well played... Alex thinks. He knew breaking it to Styles might cause a little tension the moment he was informed, when he was assigned to their security... But thinking fairly, what other option did this company have, other than to somehow get their strongest contract extended if they wanted to survive this blow on the other hand?

 

 Harry keeps his eyes on the blond older man, sensing several eyes on him.

He forces his mind to stay still though his head starts to sway inside. Something heavy and painful starts building up down his throat for no reason... He bites his tongue wanting to crack out of the shiver building inside, wishing if he could not hear a word of the prim tone that's ringing in the room. _Contract - three years - progression - PR - fight - extended_... the words sound like a jumble to him. He feels weary just by connecting them.

He bites his lip, wanting to clench his mind, wishing he could just curl in and hug himself in to the misery that is swallowing him. They all want him to be strong and try and find his strength like some fucking pro when all he wanted was to drown in his hole. He is falling... falling along a tunnel and all he wanted to do is to reach the bottom... not try and climb his way out. He felt tired ... and weak... he felt utterly weak, and drained to even look up. And all he wanted was to lay the bottom and stay there until he could catch his breath...

But would everyone just let him? Is it a bad what he's thinking?

 

"- know what you went through in last couple of weeks is not easy, Harry... but should you let it define you or in simple sense - eat you up. All you did for your career would fall for nothing." Magee says more carefully this time. "You have so much potential as well as your band mates. We have all being running with the talents we could contribute and we are on the lead. But if we slow down now, we will lose it. All the efforts , everything would be for nothing. What happened to you in the last week should not stop you from being what you are... the most wanted star last year. Even among your own band mates. Modest _is_ here to help if nothing else and...-eh..."

Magee abruptly stops as Harry lifts his half bandaged arm to his face, covering his eyes in a sudden move. Room blows with a silence apart from controlled laboured breaths. Looking to Liam's face Magee gestures as if to ask what went wrong, wasn't he trying to encourage him to move on? Was that a bad idea?

"Harry?"

Liam tries as Robbin steps near the bed, leaving a standing Anne with an utter concerned face by the couch with their lawyer. Magee looks around tensed, brow lined - trying to cover up his awkwardness by running a hand along his face.

With everything reeling up inside him, Harry tries... tries hard to keep it all in. But he is failing - everything seemed to be failing, just like Nick said... his vicious blue eyes boring in to him... cutting him to pieces. He could hear the words, laughs - calling him nothing but a fuck toy in the industry - Modest's pinup boy... He could hear their laughs - words. He could practically feel their hands on him, rough and forceful. Merciless leather cutting in to his back , bleeding him red.  He could feel the searing streams of electricity running through his flesh, shaking him, tearing him. He could taste blood in his tongue and - and his own screams in his ears - with the pale haunting face watching... watching him as tries to fight feebly, his hands held tight as the man pushed in... _his legs felt useless... crushing pain .No... no... No... don't think... don't..._ But then white hot pain as the flame  touched him...burning... burning... he couldn't - he couldn't go through it anymore. _They'll know..._ they'll know - they already know - Louis... they killed him... they killed his Louis... he killed him... his fault... Louis... No Louis is alive - he saw him... someone told him... Liam , Liam told him - and he saw him...

He bites his lip hard... pressing his arm on his face harder, craving to feel something - anything.

"H, love?" he hears Gemma's concerned voice and it makes his breath gasp out with a painful sob. The room falls silent to him again, with blackness under his covered eyes. He feels himself shake... something loose seem to break inside his taped and patched up mind. He feels frozen and melting down at the same time, he is in the hospital... his room - everyone is around him...looking at him. At his broken and damaged body. No. No, he does not want to be looked at - like some animal put in to display...

-he just wanted to be left alone at this moment - with no one staring, no one saying a word to him...

 

 _'I don't think it will be best to continue this, Mr. Magee'_   he hears Robbin's low voice, _'I'm sorry but I think it's better if we can see you later'_

He feels Robbin nearer but doesn't dare to open his eyes or remove his arm covering them, finding the blackness far more comforting...

 

Liam looks to the three faces of Magee, Paul and Alex - Magee's pressed lips and crossed hands with worried eyes. Was it guilt or concern he is seeing through the pale eyes? Alex looks at Liam and it is a knowing sympathetic smile gesturing as if to take his leave. But he seem to wait for one of the other two to initiate, clearly not finding it right to put is finger in to something he has not been a part of until recent. Paul then reaches Harry's knee and presses his hand lightly over the white sheet - sadness lining his features. Liam knew how close Paul has been to Harry, and how much Harry adored Paul despite of their time to time clashes when Paul had to act upon Modest's settings.

"Take care, kid" Paul mumbles not looking at Harry's arm covered face.

And he is the first to turn and leave the room without sparing a second glance at any of the faces in the room including Magee.

 

With the three gone, anyone doesn't move in the room which sounds with heavy breathing from Harry. 

"Babe..." Anne sounds almost broken as she calls, having come closer. But she does not dare touch him. It was something they all had learned eventually, that Harry preferred distance and no sudden gestures. "- they are gone, love... just - let me see you ... please."

A light sob escapes but Harry does not remove his arm from his face, instead his grip seem to get tighter and heavier.

"Love, H? please?"

Anne tries again as Liam bites his lip trying not to feel like smashing something on Magee's head for ruining this up again. Harry had been calm - quiet, but calm. He had even coped seeing Louis, when something was clearly not right between them- he, Liam could tell... he could always tell. Harry had managed to  survive Jeff and the clan even when Liam had to warn Harry that they knew the whole incident as just an accident occurred after their last gig.

He had survived it...

And everyone else around him had been so careful and mindful not to set him up... trying to give him the space he needed... to heel , to come back to them with the Harry they used to know...

They all had been so careful.

But now Magee had to come and mess it up again. _Fucking fabulous..._

 " _Harry... Love..-'_ "

He watches as Harry inhales a shaky breath with a shiver running along his arm.

He gasps again suddenly, " _Please take me away from her-e"_ his voice shatters painfully under his arm - heavy and broken...

Robbin steps behind Anne, seeming to hold the control for the sadness everyone else seemed to be loosing.

"We are going to the hotel, H... it's all arranged." he says in an assuring tone. "Just one more hour, son. We'll-"

 _"_ I _\- I don't want to go to the hotel...I..-"_ he tears his arm away slowly revealing pleading, glassy eyes.

Everything seems broken and piled up in his face... everything which he seemed to hide and cover up. He smudges the leaking tears all over his face as if he wanted to hide away from each and every one of them.

 _'...please'_ he mouths without and sound coming out.

 Anne grips on Robbin's hand, her tearing eyes suddenly earnest and hard. She steps closer to Harry, dragging her hand along the sheet near him. Looking at him hard and focused she slowly hugs him then... as more sobs escapes brokenly from him.

" _Shh... shhh... it's all going to be OK, babe... It's all going to be OK. I'm here alright?"_

  _"Please take me away...Please..."_ his voice gets lost in a fit of sobs as he holds on to Anne lightly.

" _I will, honey. I will. It's all going to be fine , baby. I'll take you away, alright? I'll take you far away from all this, you can trust me right?_ _, I will take you away."_

Anne says holding her son in a warmth only a mother could ever possibly give.

 

..........................................................................

 

 

 

 11.30 am

Louis checks the time. He feels tired ... yes. With all the up and downs trough the hospital corridors last couple of days, plus the drained emotions he had been haunted with until yesterday... And to deal with a fucking phone call from El early in the fucking morning.

Yes, he is tangling with El and things she said and unsaid. But as he walks along the now familiar empty hospital corridors, which he knew would be for the last time, he almost feels relived inside... even giddy.

Harry will be released in couple of hours...

He knows he should calm the fuck down but his insides are building up with an anticipation... making him waste time choosing what to wear and mucking with his hair for another hour or so... He had even stolen few bites from his mothers breakfast, earning a raised eye from Lottie and greeted Rob as he jumped in to the SUV, making the man to keep staring at him in the rear mirror until they reached the hospital.

It is not as if anything is better than the day before, but there is something about getting Harry out of the hospital... no matter in what condition. He is still Harry... His Harry...  his Harry who is ridiculous and pristine in the same way... The boy who he had been madly in love with since they were young and foolish ... foolish enough that he maybe had made a mess out of it by trying to own him when Harry had always been his... with every piece he's got.

 

"Payno!!!" he nearly shouts reaching the ward's lobby, seeing Liam sitting in the white the couch  with Niall next to him.

Niall almost shoots up as he hears Louis... are they waiting until they readied everything with Harry? Sure to be a lot of documents - he remembers his discharge... Privacy , escorts and what not. Anne and everyone else must be busy with it all.

"Evening, Ladies... I mean lads." 

"Tommo..." Liam stands, leaving Niall who sits like he is frozen to the couch. Niall doesn't look up at him for some reason.

"Everything set?" he tries a smile looking from Liam to Niall.

Liam looks at him, quiet. His face is hesitant and concerned... Niall doesn't meet his eyes, sitting there biting his lip. And it makes something to start crawling up his spine, mind raising.

" _Where's Harry?"_

Liam just presses his lips in to a thin line, Louis can see him biting them inside. His brown eyes looks sad and worried.

"Where's Harry, Liam?" Louis asks once again, his chest starting to pain.

"He left" Liam says, blinking as in slow motion."

"Where?" he asks dumbly, eyes wide. He didn't understand.

"Anne took him away- He was - ... I - I managed to-" Liam presses his lips tight, looking at something he has in his hand. "He left you. this"

He holds a folded piece of paper to Louis, eyes grim and tight.

Louis feels sick, almost- as he takes the small paper folded in two.

 

_Lou,  
_

_Some things are meant remain broken._

_It is best to keep it that way. Let me go - H_

 

 _Let me.... go?... Let me go... Let me .._.

 

Louis does not take his eyes off the scribbled paper and the sickeningly familiar handwriting as he slowly turns with shaking hands. Everything in his mind reeling, screeching inside.

Same words... once again and he knew how exactly Harry would say it in his voice... how his eyes would shine in glass and how he would roll his lips with the each word, slurring it out of his mouth... deep and slow.

It is worse this time... worse because this time Harry had a choice, Louis knew.

The worst is that he knew it had nothing to do with what they felt for each other. Now that he knew what happened and why. It had nothing to do with how anyone wanted them to be either - because there were nothing to hide between them... they had passed all the lies, all the karma, all the faults because they had been tested the worst way possible... it had been between them. Him and Harry -  them. Nothing else.

But Harry had left... left Louis - once again with all that they had been through.

And this time, it felt far real than the first time.

Because this time, Harry had a bloody choice...

 

_Louis feels like a zombie as he drags himself along the corridor to the door of the familiar room, which is now empty._

_As he falls down to that familiar seat, his fingers no longer holds the piece of paper with scribbled words, having dropped it somewhere in the  tiled corridor because it is too heavy for his shaking fingers to hold._

 

 

 

_To Be Continued... to Part 03 -[Never Apart](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5853580/chapters/13491916)_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: To all my darling readers, I'm really sorry for all the delays... especially for this one. 
> 
> Well about the story, I know so many things needs answering and explaining. Next and last part of this story is already up. So do have a read if you are up for it.  
> I'm on tumblr if anyone want a chat ... so if anyone's interested here's my account - http://evinaadlene.tumblr.com/
> 
> As always let me know your thoughts....


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